Extrocation: A True Story

And That's the way it's supposed to be.
One man's cry another goes free.
On and on as go we.
And now the time has come to the changes to be.
As us three become one.
Tell me what this means to me.
Broken hearts line the wall.
Capture me in time, I will do what is wrong.
The cells won't be so cold.
On and on as go we.
The blessed seem so real.
The best things in life are such a thrill.
Sometimes I don't even want to feel.
The cries and woes of all and now soothe the teachers crawl.
As you see nothing looks as it seems.
Now that everyone can see the blindness of humanity.
Sitting on the bay watching the fool who likes to pray, conning their life away.
Justify to me, the need for more than one of me.
So come on in the tree when you and I can be me.
Unless you hate the lack of privacy.
Carry me to a land where freedom is the only song of the town.
On and on as go we.
The cries of yet to be.
Please don't let them face me.
This all brings back the horrible memory.

In a time of captivity.
When a knife was more powerful than the gun.
Beyond my chest and below my lungs.
I made screams and began to run, from a friend never to be.
But soon he caught up to me.
As he rubbed and fondled me.
I was in shock from head to knee.
Waiting for a time to get free.
But his pain didn't stop with me.
All the neighbors sons still come to me and tell me of his trickery.
On and on as go we.
Tell me what this means to me.
Even now he comes after me.
In my sleep and in my life all I want is peace at night.
That must be the reason most people don't want to be seen with me.
Tell me what this meant to me.

Copyright 1996
Mark J. Hall
All Rights Reserved


The turning of the mental screws, ever so loosely tightened.
Boring the everglades of expanse and retraction.
Calculating the nights process.
Clinging to a memory of futures past.
Stepping beyond the lines of communication.
Stiffling the power for more control.
Superimposing the rugs of life.
To tell the claims and keeping them untattored?
Embalming old statues.
Caressing the thoughts of regression.
To make amends.
In the day of change the night has began for the end.
Speculations of disastrous beauty arise.

Copyright 1996
BeyetMark Productions Ltd
& Mark J. Hall
All Rights Reserved

Not What, What Where

What was there no one could stand?
The emotions were heightened by chemical.
Nobody was true.
Nothing was wrong.
We had the chance to go beyond.
The time was short.
Visions were thickened.
We needed more.
We blessed the beast within.
We collided by chemicals solid and liquid.
Seconds were counted.
Minutes passed in vast spans of moods.
What was there could not be told.
Now memories are faded.
We set the stage for more explosions of power and vision.
We can make the trip, but where will we go and end?

Copyright 1996
Mark J. Hall
All Rights Reserved