Domestic Chaos
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

By day or by night by concept of measured light,
or by darkness weighed in gradient of shade.
Chaos is the rule, not the exception…
We are the damned, the children of fate.

To exist or not to exist is NOT the question,
as why is the common lament expressed in pain…
envious of pleasure. What tragedy, what bliss,
this desire, the birth of our ambition.

Extremis de profundis, wily chronos’ ticking
sands of deathly screams, and tocking sighs of lovers dreams… we feel it all… in between.
We are the damned, we are the blessed, we are the rest.

We speak of peace as if war is unnecessary.
We speak of love as if hatred did not exist.
We speak of good as evil rampages in dark hearts.
We speak of ambition and aspire to tame chaos.

Who are we? We grapple in numbers and clump in anarchy. We devise democracies of vampires and tyrannies of passions. Idealistic utopian blood letting in the name of god’s and muses achieving pleasure through pain.

Tick tock, tick tock, our clock expands and contracts.
Chaos laughs with us and at our pains, it cries with our pleasures and drives our reasons insane. Domestic chaos is why… Life may be fickle but fate is defiant.