The Prophet Obblonge - Casualties Are Inevitable

When we moved back to Texas from South Carolina, my parents purchased a mobile home from a
Repossession lot, the Repo Depot
Built in 1980, it is the one I sold last year, heavily modified
The interior paneling, thin enough to be cardboard but pressed from coarser bits, was styled

To appear like hardwood paneling popular in the previous decades
Every 12 feet or so had the same repeating fake woodgrain design printed on it
One of the knothole facsimiles looked exactly like the face of the demon that is revealed
Under the magnifying glass examining the steam-fogged bathroom in Amityville 3D

I watched almost nothing but horror movies and read as many horror novels as I could
The genre being what I most identified with life's median condition
It was like having a comforting reminder that made sense of the environment always persistent
By the time I was raising my own child in that structure, her mother having abandoned

Us, I had either removed the substandard material in favor of denser wall or painted over the
Tobacco-tarred surfaces
Like a majority of offspring, I am a steadfast opposition to what they got wrong
Kallisti did not grow up in fear of her parents or anyone

There was no screaming and arguing, or constant displays of violence
Happiness and laughter, music and play
Messes are allowed, they can be cleaned
It is the memory of the events that count and build a lifetime

Constant change of decoration and floor plan to suit the needs of the present
An example that one creates the world one wishes to behold
My daughter is a better musician than I am, able to improvise melody in key with and with
Accurate, immediate phrasing

When she was a crawling baby, I would lay my electric guitar on the floor with the buttons
Of the multi-effect floor processor next to it
They're made to stomp on and are quite durable
Joyous noises unto the firmament kept the malcontent spirits far from the bedroom bedsides

Since moving away from the parental units at fifteen, until about five years ago, the
Decrepit faces leering sinister from walls and such, store shelves, roadsides, trunks
Of trees, were merely cartoon animals in clouds, whispering by on blue seas
But there are monsters

Many resemble bystanders in store aisles, uniform wearers
Those who present themselves as friends and family
Terrors inhuman as well, that grip the dream states and litter them with jagged barbs that
Later will rend and tear apart thoughts during waking hours

They can be dangerous, sure
But only if you comply with their wicked whisperings
Forget, perhaps, that their illusions have no substance
Their intimidating strength is only a number

None of them are heroes or have the capability to act as one
We are at war, but we are the stars of the production
The cameras follow us and tell our stories, as we decide to write them
Some of us will fall

Casualties are inevitable
But when we do, we become ethereal bonfires, astral sources of power and replenishment
For those of us left who need
That is something the nightmares roving both street and psyche do not have benefit of

Choose your weapons
Stay vigilant
Hell is what we fashion for them
Fear is a quiet event

Victory is thunderous, elemental, assured and unmistakable
Yes, child, there are monsters
But they are not part of the design
Hunt them down and eradicate, erase them, until their memories are entertainment

Written by:
Michael Mackenzie

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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