There are a lot of lessons we learn Walking through fire, hoping not to burn. There is much that we presume In training so that we will not be consumed.
There are times that all there is, is the space. It's there in the concept of God's lost grace. Where once there was a strong connection, Too much hurt changes that tragic conception.
In a world where every dog hunts, You learn that you only die once. When wheels are often up by seven, The odds are that you'll go through Hell to find Heaven.
We walk the space where children hopelessly scream, And the souls of lost nations can no longer dream. Searching, hoping, grabbing ahold of that something That just might make sense of this bitter nothing.
We talk amongst ourselves about battlefield theology And we hope that it is real and not just mythology. All the sacrifices made half a very real sense of cost. Clinging in belief, we hope not all has been lost.
In a world where every dog hunts, You learn that you only die once. When wheels are often up by seven, The odds are that you'll go through Hell to find Heaven.
Feeling fully alive and full of old glory, We bought into the best of the story. Those present manage to steal the spotlight Even when it happens that it's not told quite right.
The are somehow missed as they feign and say, Now that they have stopped coming along the way. IED attacks act to reduce our company's number, And tell the truths about how evil doesn't slumber.
In a world where every dog hunts, You learn that you only die once. When wheels are often up by seven, The odds are that you'll go through Hell to find Heaven.
Time and time again, it turns in the play That the only easy day is always yesterday. The rules of engagement remain the hardfast rule, Coming back against the odds remains old school.
With a snake and creep, we find the out. A sniper's scope removes the margin of doubt. Safe in/safe out exists only in the officer's plan. The best we can hope is to come back with every man.
In a world where every dog hunts, You learn that you only die once. When wheels are often up by seven, The odds are that you'll go through Hell to find Heaven.
(c) October 8, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Crimes increase as education, opportunity, and property decrease. Whatever spreads ignorance, poverty and, discontent causes crime…. Criminals have their own responsibility, their own share of guilt, but they are merely the hand…. Whoever interferes with equal rights and equal opportunities is in some real degree, responsible for the crimes committed in the community. – Rutherford B. Hayes
Lizzy Borden III: Seduced By Blood, It Begins by Michael Doyle
"Dandelion tea helps with the clotting," Said the maid to Lizzy, pleasantly nodding. The phenomena of Victorian senauality Overcomes the shame of banality.
As it were in this 'Little Death', A death that leaves the maiden out of breath. There is a pursuit in feeling the good At least when it's wantonly misunderstood.
Life and death have beauty and cruelty. The best that one can do is face it with humility. We do what we can to keep quietly survive. Even when it leaves us more dead than alive.
To escape the torment and the gloom, Our troubles are locked away in a room. As if this could ever do away With all the misses of heat that creeps into our day.
The need is read to be finally done. It is power and pathology to the bone. It is a solution to the wages of sin, Open in to interpretation over and again.
This then is the way of Elizabetha the Vampire, Who was enamored with beauty that would not expire. She sought out ways to keep within her youth, And walked away further from God's holy truth.
Soon milk was not enough for satisfaction, Elizabetha begged the proof of attention, So she aseked the maidens to heed the call. Heartless beuty led to the passion of her fall.
There came a feast of beauty's celebration, The truth of this was a bloodlust jubilation. All to bathe Elizabetha in a bath of blood That became as filthy as Satan's hellish mud.
They say that remission doesn't heed this world' strife, The blood of virgins is the source of cursed life. The truth is that blood becomes its own power, There in the glow of the twilight's witching hour.
Maidens imbibe in a bath of cherry blossoms As they dare to bare each other's bossoms. Too lurid to become lovers to one another, They comply with the darkness with each other.
(c) October 7, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“All men by nature are equal in that equal right that every man hath to his natural freedom, without being subjected to the will or authority of any other man; being all equal and independent, no one ought to harm another in his life, health, liberty or possessions.” – John Locke
Lizzy Borden II: Black Cat History by Michael Doyle
However well rehearsed the day, Things happen as they do along the way. Old habits and gestures don't hold sway. However much it is that some might say.
There are expectations for pleasantry That are no match for the savagery Found among the cultural gentility, As it comes full circle against reality.
Here in the horror of so-called modnerity, There is a feel to recognized as evidentiary That calls out the love that is a mystery As if life has become a black cat history.
Some find enjoyment at striving to be unkind, Quarreling with the world without a mind. They are unaware of the hurt that they cause As their every motive violates God's laws.
Those who most live in this sort of presence Soak in the stains found within this essence. Being made to eat up this brutality, They become unfit for the kinder society.
Some spew all sort of morbid insensibility As they have forgotten the slightest humility. They believe themselves of aristocratic blood, And they believe everyone should be dragged through the mud.
Then comes the day that makes its way For those who stand hard against life's play. Life forces all to make necessary alterations That cut across the face of all lamentations.
We find ourselves punished for what others have done. Int this race of life that cannot be won. The caring of the dance is a message of a bitter love. That pass this way divinely towar our God above.
(c) October 6, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“(A)nything is better than indecision. We must decide. If I am wrong, we shall soon find out and can do the other thing. But not to decide wastes both time and money and may ruin everything.” – Ulysses S. Grant
“Our government is the potent, the omnipresent teacher. For good or for ill it teaches the whole people by example. Crime is contagious. If the government becomes a lawbreaker, it breeds contempt for law; it invites every man to become a law unto himself; it invites anarchy. To declare that in the administration of the criminal law the end justifies the means – to declare that the Government may commit crimes in order to secure the conviction of a private criminal – would bring terrible retributions.” – Louis D. Brandeis
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along
