Life devoured

Your broken decrepit minds
Ancient in all but time
Burn life away like flies
While drowning the overburdened skies

A generation of greed
Left us all their ashes burned from trees
Bending our systems to fit your need
Destroying lives to find your keys

Warping the Fortune of all
With humanities stolen call
Your lives of squandered wealth
Only serve to hinder worldwide health

Your desire the source of turmoil
A hunger for your own rotting stench
A future fueled by stolen oil
Destroyed in your desire to quench

Sit there you may
As the world breaks
As it falls from your life’s decay
While you sit amid the bloodied lakes

On you lands the blame
In your hands was the seed
From your life was built the flame
That devoured the world in greed


A man lost is well aware

Just as darkness fuels despair
A man lost is well aware
That he built his binding lair
And his chains are locked by lack of care

Fueled by fear of change
He built unyielding chains
Mentally barred by a willful stain
His life held back by thoughts so vain

Darkness bred to fight his life
To bring order to perceived strife
Choked his mind and sight
His fear warping wrong and right


Changing light

A blue tinged sky rimmed by budding trees

Something that always amazes me about the world is the vast amount of circumstances that can surround any given event or object. As time moves the circumstances around you change, invoking a different reaction out of the life that they affect. A chilly spring dusk is enough to enhance the greens and blues of my neighborhood, to show the plants in their full glory as beings of changing light. Those who wait for the sun after torrential storms, they who bear the brunt of the elements and take their life from its power.

A blue tinged sky rimmed by budding trees

Shifting colors

As I set out for my daily walk,the color of the sky and fading daylight astounded me. When standing out in the open the world was struck in shaded blues and whites. The sky was coated in thick shifting clouds and it was as if they were projecting their chaotic blue light onto the land beneath. Every opposing color muted in favor of this perpetual blue.

Freshly grown maple leaves in a yellowed light

As time moves

As the clouds released the sun my view was altered irrevocably, gone was the diminishing blue of the cloudy skies and hence came the golden light of an early sunset. Each muted color that was gone before came back in droves. The world glowed with water and gold, a testament to life’s will to forge itself through the force of time.

In an effort to respect the privacy of my neighbors I was limited in the pictures that I could take. I have plans to take a trip to a wooded stream nearby and have hopes to capture more full pictures.


Spring eyes

A broken rotting branch set in contrast against the color of wet bark

I’ve decided to start posting my photos here rather than spamming the CapeCraft pics channel every day. I’ve always loved taking photos of the world around me, trying my best to capture the moments that hold my attention and sustain my perspective of it. , through the years I have fallen in and out of the practice so I’m still very new to it.

The setting sun as seen through branches

The sunset after a spring storm

As I was walking the light caught my attention through the branches. The color it gave the leaves around it gave evidence to a flowering spring soaking in the aftermath of a storm. A dull green lit by a shuttered sun.

A broken rotting branch set in contrast against the color of wet bark

The color of wet rot

I have passed this tree hundreds of time in the past year or so. It has been part of my daily commute to work and the store. However, during my walk today after the storm the bright colors of the wet rotting branch stood out like never before. It was set against a flat colored sky and darkened bark. A way that I have never had the chance to observe it.

Wilting tulips covered in drops of freshly fallen water

The aging beauty

Tulips are short lived marvels. They flower so quickly in the early spring, weathering the last frosts of a long winter. As the spring storms wear on they fight time by filling themselves with water and sun as you only can in the months of spring. As seen here the ones in my yard and nearing their end, sacrificing their beauty so that they can regrow the next year.

A sunset as seen through clouds and trees

Of all the views

Of everywhere to view the sunset in my small neighborhood there is one road that seems to always highlight the sun perfectly. Perfectly facing the west as to capture the sun while it’s wreathed in the clouds. A perfect way to highlight the glowing colors and shades of the fading light.


Senseless Time

As time goes by it becomes harder and harder to trust my senses, to know exactly how and why my body reacts to the world. My interpretation changes by the second and some days it’s impossible to keep up. Each sense working on a scale that changes with every new piece of information I gleam from it, a drastically fast kaleidoscope of broken images and feelings. Brighter lights, clearer sounds, sharper temperatures, and a swaying scope of scale attack me constantly, wearing at my view of the world. Each shift defines a whole new set of actions and reactions to reinvent, a constant game of mix and match, find the value, adjust and prefix.

Check my vision, watch for space, rescope distance and speed. Always a broken game, a losing battle against a shattered brain. Skills that wain faster than their use, moments of clarity that set me free. Moments by which my motivation flys, a vision of broken skies and solid ground. The heavens lost, confounded in their great scope, with solid burning ground screaming it’s putrid truth.

Adjust and prefix

Watch the scale
A distance around you
Measure the falling hail
Shattered parts in view
Leaving burning trails
Make your perspective true
Your center motion rail
Feel each push pass through
Moving you by sail
Shaking you broken and skewed
Counter actions or fail
Reaction and survival impromptu
A new sound prevails
The world coloured in blue
Cracking foundations hollow and frail
Prefix the action in due
Lest you end with an action designed to fail
A motion written in the best of truth

Watch for Space

Hear your dreams
Become a master of seams
Find the open lost scenes
Hidden behind noise that screams

Hear the space
Watch it race
Rushing into place
Ending with a blasting face

Hear it’s words
Know what they hold
Waiting for time to scold
Teaching a lesson of life gone cold

Hear the shatter
A pattern of broken plaster
Each its own single splatter
Tearing through space and matter

A shattered brain

Men define their world
With a mind short of pure design

A preemptive idea of hot and cold
Flying truth a feature undefined

Vision is but an image to hold
Ideas forming the world they find

A broken game for time to mold
Perception built to define the sane

Brightest light

Reflect the world my light
Show the feature rich world in sight
Shape it’s contours just right
Bleeding edges of colors fight
A diming future for all of life
Brighten to fight the waxing night
A future doomed with unbending might
My vision all but burning bright
Fighting the deadend fright
Colours burn the world alike
A feature rich landscape a colours flight


A brothers hand

The first brothers had a certain synergy, largley held up by the tempurate actions of the younger. Always ensuring that his brothers actions would be fruitfull, watching from behind the curtain and pushing the world towards order. He loved his brothers messes and was enthralled by guiding them to their shared goal. Each new crux of disorder was a place their dreams could be born. He shadowed his brother, watching the proceses unfold in his wake, altering the laws they had laid in sequnce to fit their visions.

Of course there were mistakes, and they teach temperate more and more each time. Showing the guiding hand where to go through unrecoverable disaster. Grand actions leading where they sometimes do, a destroyed world rotten with perfection or fear.


A brothers chaos

Of the two brothers one stood out. He was the louder and more enthusiastic one. As opposed to his counterpart who watched from the background, carefully planning each action. The grander brother rushed through ther plan and couldn’t sit still while the universe was defined. Facinated with every machination of their nature he did an uncountable number of expiriments that have altered the world they were building, so manny that even they could not predict their reprecusions.

But then, where is the fun in knowing everything? Grander just wanted to see his art work it’s way out of the chaos he made, to see everything fall into line by essetential and simple rules. Each action taken carelessly by the brother was intended to sow the chaotic energy of the early universe, making a mess bg enough it would clean itself. The end result of granders chaos formed only by his brothers temperate hand.


The first brothers (lore concept)

There was a time in the past, a time where location was nonsense and the allpowerfull had not yet been forged. In this abstract place when time never changed a spark hotter than any that will ever exist made itself. That spark had been on a quest to forge a world of beauty and free will, things that had been long lost in it’s home. From that spark grew two beings, entities of creation whose definitions did not yet exist, by today’s words they were the first brothers.

These eternal siblings had the whole of existence in their hands and a shared idea of perfection. To them perfection was not in defined calculations or exercising precision in all things, but they sought perfection from emergence. To see the world build itself with no goals in mind, balancing its own aspects through mistakes and catastrophe. Watching the wildfires rage themselves into fields of nourished flowers and letting consciousness war its way to peace.


Life over time

Future defined in shock
Escaping it’s tiny case
Defile the world’s own flock
Energy caught mid race

A sweeping ripple
The true mass effect
Minds defined as simple
Finding a rhythms catch

Minds think alike
Marking time by light
The years an open mic
Devoured by motions fight

Minds all but lost
Defining their own shape
Man’s folly the final cost
Their will of patterns make

All a cascading filter
The made lost defect
Each their own trickster
Trapped by what they deflect

Energy moving mind
The fever pitch of life
A companion found in time
Defining futures strife


Fire of man

A burning maxim defined
The fire behind clouded eyes
Flowing forth in kind
A future of intersecting skies

Words spoken by kin
A rule made to bend
The burned idea in sin
Truth the masters lend

Define a man within
A seeker of life in flux
Broken by evils whim
A sleeper in rivers rush

Fire consumes the tool
Breaking an ashen wake
Mans broken rule
Fire for life’s stolen sake