Over the years I have witnessed many crimes, some by the most honest of men.
These crimes are very distinct to each type of man.
Though so unique in manner they have one thing in common,
They have been committed in the sense of "justice".
 
            With each victim comes a responsibility of revenge.
Is it pride, honor, or self gratification that drives men to war?
If I raise my fist at a man for spitting on me, I will be seeking my honor back.
But to strike a fool, is there honor in this action? No there is no honor in senseless bloodshed.
He has done me no physical harm; but again. He has insulted me.
 With the insult of my name he also insults my family.
How do you walk away from such a crime?
 
            These two are the thoughts that complicate my life so deeply,
There are times I have to force myself to accept one of these actions as truth
No matter which I choose a sense of guilt leads to restless nights
I do not deny the pleasure I feel when the scent of blood consumes me.
The tangy sweet texture fragrencing the air. Enjoyable as the smell of roasting a pig.
I feel no guilt of violence only for the joy I have in it.
 
            I have tried to follow the right and wrong policy.
What makes me bleed can make others suffer as well.
I feel I have abused my ability by doing it so mercilessly.
Though compassion comes later. Almost like a karmic rain.
 
            I often wish for peace. Not in the world, in myself.
A war between what I think is right and what I think is necessary.
Don't misunderstand me I feel no difference in robbing a man blind vs.  Giving my wealth to charity.
Both serve only the purpose we give them.
 
            Perception, which is the only real truth. When a man falls in battle both men fallen or not are hero's
One for living and one for dying. Neither for being right or wrong. Both willing to surrender their lives for the same reason. "justice"
Justice is a crime. Regenerating death a cycle that will never be broken.
 
             I wish to end the cycle of blood. But how can I when I take such pleasure in seeing it?
If you were watching men hang.
Would it be your eyes that hide as the corpse pendulums? Or is it your shame that could not be witness?
We can cloak ourselves from the reign of blood. But we can't run from it.
 
            I do not wish to forget my actions or to lose touch with my moments of insanity.
I want nothing more than to understand why I am cruel. Or why I am seen as cruel. All I wish to do is work, love, and be with my family. and to sleep restfully.
 
            All of which require some amount of selfishness.
In these paragraphs I'm sure you have noticed my struggle.
To make sense of these words would be time consuming and most likely prove useless to you.
They are the questions I ask myself.
You will find no answers here. Only confusion and more questions. But if they appeal to you, read some more some other day

 
J. Andrew Day

With .. you alone I am always

Hard bent the pressure gets to me

Step back the punches are swift and depriving

judging me always

breakdown jaded and depleting

with .. you alone I am always

hard bent driving the wrong way

sweetly dividing my,,

softly breaking my.

I know once it is freedom

lacking just to bee seen here

with.. you alone I am always

Hard bent the peace is confronting

long day sleep away everything

everything that.. reminds me of you

I'll keep longing for action

Lusting bent satisfaction.

Maybe someday I'll find the courage

fight back, withering inside

I am so alone here,

I feel so conflicted

and the water drips down soaking my body with memories of you

Take back all that you read here

lay back rest in your shadows, comfort yourself. I think that I can suffer being alone.

If alone means I no longer need to see you

perfect... I am alone now. Alone with somebody new