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Welcome to my home.

Hell within the dome.



People with black robes passing by.

Couldn't see past their mask, even if you try.



See the smiles on the real ones face?

See the tears leaving their trace?

See the red glowing eyes behind the mask?

See the blue eyes of the Angels after his task?



In ones face,

the one with the tear trace.

The one with the red eye.

The one who refuses to really cry.



The one with the blood all over their robe.

The one known threw out the globe.

The one with the small smile on his face.



A smile hidden behind his mask.

A smile, one not to ask.



A smile hidden in the heart.

The one whom lives with a missing part.



The red eyes will turn blue

only past the mask can you see what’s true.



The mask of emptiness.

The mask of cold.

The mask as hard as gold.

The mask full of the lies told.



A dark mask for a dark heart.

But not if your really smart.



Look behind the red eye.

You will see what wants to cry.

You will see an Angel fly.

You will see a wounded heart die.

You will see, an Angel behind a Demons eye.

It started as a slow burn, a small flicker of light, not even the faintest of glows that could claim its ground in a battle. Alone it stood, silent in peace, none moving but ever changing in its own minds eye, clueless to the changing world.



As if going against oneself the heart decided to go against its minds better judgment, no longer wanting to be in this standstill that’s deemed its self-safe.



A change came slowly, crawling into cracks that were unseen. Something forbidden, but no longer claimed was penetrating the hold.



The flicker of light, that was once unseen, slowly started to grow. Bit by bit, unnoticeable to the naked eye. Like a snake in the grass, watching and waiting patiently to strike.



The mind, catching wind of what was slowly progressing stood up strong. Chastising the hearts feeble attempts of falling under the dark cloud it so often lingered in, when attempting this same stunt.



The heart felt defeated, trying to reason with its self but making no way retreated back into what it’s always known. Lowering its light until it was unnoticeable. Plotting its next attempt with the drive of what it once felt like, to burn bright.

In the laid back California town of sunny San Rafael



Lived a girl named Pearly Sweetcake, you prob’ly knew her well.



She’d been stoned fifteen of her eighteen years and the story was widely told



That she could smoke 'em faster than anyone could roll.



Her legend finally reached New York, that Grove Street walk-up flat



Where dwelt The Calistoga Kid, a beatnik from the past



With long browned lightnin’ fingers he takes a cultured toke



And says, “Hell, I can roll ‘em faster, Jim, than any chick can smoke!”







So a note gets sent to San Rafael, “For the Championship of the World



The Kid demands a smoke off!” "Well, bring him on!" says Pearl,



"I'll grind his fingers off his hands, he'll roll until he drops!"



Says Calistog, "I'll smoke that twist till she blows up and pops!”



So they rent out Yankee Stadium and the word is quickly spread



"Come one, come all, who walk or crawl, price – just two lids a head



And from every town and hamlet, over land and sea they speed



The world's greatest dopers, with the Worlds greatest weed



Hashishers from Morocco, hemp smokers from Peru



And the Shamnicks from Bagun who puff the deadly Pugaroo



And those who call it Light of Life and those that call it boo.







See the dealers and their ladies wearing turquoise, lace, and leather



See the narcos and the closet smokers puffin’ all together



From the teenies who smoke legal to the ones who've done some time



To the old man who smoked “reefer” back before it was a crime



And the grand old house that Ruth built is filled with the smoke and cries



Of fifty thousand screaming heads all stoned out of their minds.



And they play the national anthem and the crowd lets out a roar



As the spotlight hits The Kid and Pearl, ready for their smokin' war



At a table piled up high with grass, as high as a mountain peak



Just tops and buds of the rarest flowers, not one stem, branch or seed.







Maui Wowie, Panama Red and Acapulco Gold.



Kif from East Afghanistan and rare Alaskan Cold.



Sticks from Thailand, Ganja from the Islands, and Bangkok's Bloomin' Best.



And some of that wet imported shit that capsized off Key West.



Oaxacan tops and Kenya Bhang and Riviera Fleurs.



And that rare Manhatten Silver that grows down in the New York sewers.



And there's bubblin’ ice cold lemonade and sweet grapes by the bunches.



And there's Hershey’s bars, and Oreos, ‘case anybody gets the munchies.



And the Calistoga Kid, he sneers, and Pearly, she just grins.



And the drums roll low and the crowd yells “GO!” and the world’s first Smoke Off begins.







Kid flicks his magic fingers once and ZAP! that first joint’s rolled.



Pearl takes one drag with her mighty lungs and WOOSH! that roach is cold.



Then The Kid he rolls his Super Bomb that’d paralyze a moose.



And Pearley takes one super hit and SLURP! that bomb’ defused.



Then he rolls three in just ten seconds and she smokes 'em up in nine,



And everybody sits back and says, "This just might take some time."



See the blur of flyin’ fingers, see the red coal burnin’ bright



As the night turns into mornin’ and the mornin’ fades to night



And the autumn turns to summer and a whole damn year is gone



But the two still sit on that roach-filled stage, smokin' and rollin' on



With tremblin’ hands he rolls his jays with fingers blue and stiff



She coughs and stares with bloodshot gaze, and puffs through blistered lips.



And as she reaches out her hand for another stick of gold



The Kid he gasps, "Goddamn it, bitch, there's nothin' left to roll!"



"Nothin’ left to roll?", screams Pearl, "Is this some twisted joke?”



“I didn't come here to fuck around, man, I come here to SMOKE!"



And she reaches 'cross the table And grabs his bony sleeves



And she crumbles his body between her hands like dried and brittle leaves



Flickin' out his teeth and bones like useless stems and seeds



And then she rolls him in a Zig Zag and lights him like a roach.



And the fastest man with the fastest hands goes up in a puff of smoke.







In the laid-back California town of sunny San Rafael



Lives a girl named Pearly Sweetcake, you prob’ly know her well.



She’s been stoned twenty-one of her twenty-four years, and the story’s widely told.



How she still can smoke them faster than anyone can roll



While off in New York City on a street that has no name.



There's the hands of the Calistoga Kid in the Viper Hall of Fame



And underneath his fingers there's a little golden scroll



That says, Beware of Bein’ the Roller When There's Nothin’ Left to Roll.

COMMENTS

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Angelus
00:21 Aug 27 2011

effin awesome.

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A whisper, almost silent,

Floating gently on the breeze,

A shadow, within a shadow,

I felt eyes watching me,

Born of darkness, black as pitch,

I felt my anxiety rising,

Tightening every nerve,

Feeding my fear's surmising.



She emerged then, from a spell,

Into a dreamlike reality,

I stood rigid, in a trance,

To look upon her sheer beauty,

She stood beneath a blackened hood,

Bedecked in silver and precious stones,

She looked like a countess from the past,

Yet no more than 20 years old.



She walked towards me, creeping slowly,

Her eyes staring into mine,

Her lips were pouting, beckoning,

As she stepped into my mind,

I felt my heart pound in my breast

With a mixture of fear and awe,

Mesmerized, I couldn't move,

I knew that something was wrong.



She held a rose within her hand

And pricked a finger on a thorn,

She held her hand then, to her mouth

And licked the blood till it was gone,

A look of hunger on her face

And the passion within her eyes,

Flashed a warning to my senses

That I should flee before I die.



But her hypnosis held me firm,

I could not move but a single muscle,

I stood, watching as she came closer,

My heart beating faster still,

I knew then, within my soul

That Death, tonight, would take the helm,

There was nothing I could do

But to sink into her undead realm.



I felt her breath upon my cheek,

I felt it's warmth upon my neck,

I felt the sharpness of her teeth

As they sunk into my flesh,

I felt my life drain away,

I felt the iron fist of Death

Clutch my soul within it's grip,

To steal my last mortal breath.



I thank her for the immortality

She bestowed upon my human form,

And I thank her for the love we share

Now that we are as one,

And I thank her for her ancient wisdom,

For showing me the truth,

But most of all I thank her

For the eternal youth.

COMMENTS

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TheVampyreNico
04:01 Aug 20 2011

Very beautiful indeed I do so enjoy this one. ~Nico

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