Apology(ies)

So full of self-hatred

That when death comes to call,

I’ll punch that fucker

Square in the jaw.

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The Storm After Dawn

This concept came to me as I dwelt in the darkness of depression inside my mind. I felt as though the storm of the previous night had been cast into my body and that nature had cleansed itself at my expense.

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Abomination of Creation

I wrote this today while at a particularly low point. Reflection is often a curse to me for some reason. My mind over-analyzes far too many details of life and leaves me feeling a failure, a coward, alone. I drew comparison in this poem between the act of awaiting execution and awaiting forgiveness, both requiring the subordinate to kneel before the master of his fate.

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Hellworm

A familiar theme in my writing through the years, though this one is fairly recent. I believe I wrote this last summer.

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To Find the Peace in Madness

Melancholia came to visit again today...she doesn't come around as much this year but when she does, she stays a while...I'm trying...

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Contagion

I have struggled with self-worth and self-esteem for much of my life. I've come to understand in recent years that this is not a character flaw as I have previously thought, but rather a personality trait that has driven me to overcome adversity in unique ways. I think this is why I listen to the music I do and write the music that I do, because it speaks from a dark, helpless place but forges with aggression a will to rise up and overcome. Written in three parts, Contagion outlines three internal dialogues: confrontation with myself in the mirror, first person self-narrative, & third person self-reflection with the last line being an invitation extended to others.

photo by Max Chavez

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Unanswered Question

This one's gonna get a little dark. I don't actually remember when I wrote this one, but as someone that has struggled with depression, writing has been one method of exposing my feelings in an attempt to cope with them. This is a recurring theme I've noticed in my writing through the years. I rarely read old poetry after I pen it, but to look back on some of these darker times makes me feel a little stronger knowing that I survived whatever it was that I felt was dragging me down.

A branch to be pruned before it’s in bloom

Thorns in my knees and blood tainted hands

Praying in brambles with no light of moon

Misery’s pleas outnumber the sands

A sanguine bath blurs my eyes

Why do I have to be alive?

Wings of a dove clipped just before flight

Falling in spirals of destiny’s making

Just as the arrow shot swift through the night

A nightingale silenced before it can sing

Corpse of mortality covered in flies

Why do I have to be alive?

Drowning in pools of cold memories

While warm blood is trickling down trembling limbs

Coughing, I feel my lungs start to seize

The match will not light amidst circling winds

Desperately sifting life’s sands filled with lies

Why do I have to be alive?

I call to the Heavens, entreating demise

Gathering black skies mocking my plea

Boots of my conscience having muddied through time

Endless my suffering, Death, set me free.

Why do I have to be alive?

  by Derek Herzberg

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Leaf of Autumn

Leaf of Autumn was written during a particularly low point in my life. While driving, I noticed a tree that had a few late autumn leaves still clinging to its branches and I wrote this. It would eventually become the song we recorded as Ashes of Abaddon.

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