Friday, May 13, 2011

The Kingdom of Martyrdom




(Music lyrics that have been forming inside my head for months. This satirical song is about martyrs and where they go when righteous/religious drones murder them. It's an abusive marriage between Science and Religion. It's an anthem that anticipates the return of all martyrs. (Example: Matthew Shepard, Princess Diana, John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr., John Lennon, Joan of Arc, Jesus Christ, etc.) Those who have sacrificed their lives because they 'thought with their own mind.' Throughout time, martyrs have made this earth more livable and less savage.)


The Kingdom Of Martyrdom

Survival of the fittest. Revival of the menace. Darwin law. (Darwin law.)
Choose to populate, or recreate the fate of your downfall. (Your downfall.)
While they are being saved by the rapture they have made, will you evolve? (Evolve?)
The origin of the ape. The secrets of the snake. Where they all wrong? (All wrong?)

Because you’ve been loaded down into- the revolving chamber of the gun.
And they will always shoot you out- in whatever direction that they want.
Into The Kingdom of Martyrdom. Into The Kingdom of Martyrdom. The Kingdom come.

Cells making babies. Germs spreading disease. I’ll bring down goliath to shivering knees. Stone the non-believers. We’re aroused by desperate pleas. Our Religion is eternal, your Science is obsolete.(Eat. Eat.)

(Kingdom!) Behead them. Burn them. (Kingdom!) They questioned...our system. (Kingdom!) Silence. Dethrone them. (Kingdom!) They questioned our...SYS-TEM!!!

You thought with your own mind. Exterminate their kind. Conform or you must DIE! (Die. Die.)
You thought with your own mind. Exterminate their kind. Conform or DIE! (Die. Die. Die)

Because you’ve been loaded down into- the revolving chamber of the gun.
And they will always shoot you out- until they’ve sent someone...into the Kingdom of Martyrdom. Where righteous murders are shunned. The Kingdom...COME!!! The Kingdom...COME!!!The Kingdom...COME!!! The Kingdom...COME!!!

You thought with your own mind. We murdered our own Christ. Conform or DIE! (Conform or DIE. Conform or DIE...)





-Sir ßane Ðefiance

(We do not own the rights to the images above.)

Friday, January 28, 2011

The Sadistic & His Blank Page

This creative writing was written in song form. It's between a young boy and his blank piece of notebook paper. He is a quiet boy in class, but in solitude a different side comes out . He uses his imagination to believe that a mere sheet of paper is a living organism, and he gets gratification by inflicting pain on it. I visit the perspective of both the child and the paper, the writing tells the rest. Toward the end, controversial ideas take over. The boy doesn't know it yet, but he is defined as a young sadist. Read further to explore the dark, deranged atmosphere of my twisted mindset. Remember that everything I write deals with something in my own life. -Brandon Davis (Sir ßane Ðefiance)


The Sadistic & His Blank Page

(The Sadist:)
Blank page, erase the pain that I’ve endured today. Blank page, erase all the days in a life I’ve overstayed. Blank page, through the forest they chop down the trees and recycle our oxygen for just another...blank page. I need your space to confide my tragedies, a slab of clean skin that I can inject my disease. Blank page, I need to fold and burn your body, please. Let me sacrifice your life and free up some...blank space.

I’m talking to you now, blank page. I’m carving my pencil into you now. Erase all the pain I’m burdening today and don’t judge me for the sins I tattoo on your face.

(The Page:)
I am so...so fragile, and they cut me with their scissored hands. Who are they? What are they? They are the society of man. Tape me up and make me complete. They’re nothing, but numbers on a receipt. Tape me up into one piece. I’m wrinkled and torn and adorned with a crease.

Adorned with a crease!

(The Sadist:)
Masochist, bow down to my sadistic ways. I shall submit the hurt and you will savor the pain. Slaves will throb and they will ache for the love to obey. *whispers* Repeat after me...Repeat after me...

(The Page:)
Scribe your ink...violently... upon the blank lines of my paper-folded heart. I was once your love letter, to make your world better, but little miss muffet reopened the scars. Tape me up and make me complete. They’re nothing, but spiders wanting to feed. Tape me up into one piece. The hole-puncher's wounds is the only quality...that’s making us holy.

That’s making us holy!

Soaked up your salty tears, the only friend of mine. Just pray to a messiah that the world will invent in time! The government loves biblical mythology; It keeps the cattle in line! But it remains to be seen if it will stop the machine at the end of their succulent lives! Their planet and brains appear so hollow. In the rapist’s embrace, you might as well SWALLOW! And drink all the guilt and regret from the unresponsive mind of the sex addict! SEX ADDICT! SEX ADDICT!

On their roadside signs they will just devise another hook to lure the calves in with just another book. AND ALL BOOKS ARE JUST ANOTHER MOTHER FUCKING...BLANK PAGE!!!

(The Sadist:)
Through the forest they chop down the trees and recycle our oxygen for just another...blank page. I need to fold and burn your body, please. Let me sacrifice your life and free up some...free up some...blank space.

I’m talking to you now, blank page. I’m carving my scalpel into you now. Erase all the pain I’m burdening today and don’t judge me for the sins I tattoo on your face. YOUR FACE! YOUR FACE! YOUR FACE! YOUR FACE!

Friday, December 10, 2010

Spartacus: Blood & Sand (Season 1) (Review)

Spartacus: Blood & Sand (Season 1)
5 out of 5

Never have I laid eyes on a spectacle more mentally gratifying than, Spartacus: Blood & Sand. No Hollywood film comes to mind that might compare to the boundary-breaking compassion sewn into the barbarous storytelling. Even a household name such as Sam Raimi, responsible for successes such as the Evil Dead & Spiderman Trilogies, lent his undying talents toward this eye-opening masterpiece. This television series was an original production made only possible by the Starz channel. It is extremely rare that a show of its type is deemed worthy by me because my tastes are very particular. I was impressed by the movie 300, but this spectacular tale of gladiators topples its reign, in my charts. A work of art woven with equal precision of these dramatized elements: lust, love, vengeance, murder, sacrifice, bloodshed, blackmail, corruption, deception, money, and power. Adorned with vulgar language, constant sexual references, limitless nudity, and heart-pounding special effects, only the most action-demanding, gorehounds will be fully enthralled by the pleasing efforts made. All of these ingredients pepper the stew with such overpowering results. Inspirational characters help showcase the pumping heart behind this monstrous tale.

It is a tale of a slave who fights as a gladiator in desperate hopes to see his wife. Challenged by a plethora of unmatched obstacles in the arena, he slowly transcends from a man into a bloodthirsty animal. From his cell, he dreams of a world of freedom outside the walls of his captivity. While his master remains occupied in political affairs, Spartacus is granted enough opportunity to press for truth. In the favor of the Gods’, he is blessed with one loyal friend, and cursed with a worthy rival. Spartacus takes every risk imaginable to escape his inevitable fate.

In the final episode of the season, I felt ecstatically satisfied with the avenger’s way of vengeance. I caught myself hysterically laughing at some of the heart-racing events. I’ve yet to witness a show that could strike all of the nails that Spartacus: Blood & Sand, hit on the head. There were no loose ends to the story, every detail was tied in a perfect knot. Ample amounts of elements that I love and enjoy are absent in many Hollywood films of today, they are ALL present in this television series. I’m now patiently awaiting to watch season 2 of Spartacus: Blood & Sand. I sit and wonder what beautiful madness that the creators could come up with, this time. Starz is planning to do prequel episodes, until Andy Whitfield (Spartacus) can fully return as main focus. (Side Note: He is battling with non-Hodgkins lymphoma.) When he recovers, Starz is planning to continue the Spartacus story where it left off.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Random Update 11/12/10 (Life, New Novel, & Don't Ask, Don't Tell Policy)


It’s been a LONG time since I wrote a real blog that wasn’t a creative writing. I have a lot on my mind lately. I feel like I need to share with you an unexpected, risky decision that I’m about to make, which will reroute the path of my fate. It’s been a year now, traveling down a bumpy, dirt road- trying to find my life’s answers in a miasma of opportunities. I’ve reached out many times trying to pursue a career in the Computer IT field, but something won’t let me go any further. Is a higher power not letting me continue my route, because it knows that I’m unsatisfied with my future? Or does it know that I will fall flat on my face? I thought that I had many signs to leave Kingston and goto TN Technology Center. I don’t regret going there, even though the instructor didn’t want to teach you, and was uninspired in the subject, at hand. I don’t regret meeting the people that I met. I was there for a distinct reason, as were they. Inside my heart, I knew that Kingston was about to close down. I was hurting my wrist for greedy people that didn’t care about me on a personal level. To them, I was just a rusty machine that would break, soon enough. I met a lot of unique individuals at Kingston, as well. Every person, thus far in my life, even negative, have left a life-changing impact on me. I still cherish the good times, the offbeat conversations, and their company.

If you have got this far in my blog, you are obviously someone who gives a damn.haha So, here is what I have to say, I’m considering going to Motlow Community College. I didn’t ever see this coming in my life, but it feels right. I feel like I’ve wasted so much time after I graduated highschool. I’m worried about money and the order of future events: having a house, a family, etc. Now, I’m at crossroads, wondering which path has my future at the end. Life is too short for all the things that I want to do: a possible, future band, novelist, artist. I’m writing on Chapter 4 on my newest, unnamed novel.

To tell you a little about it, it isn’t like Cinder Fingers, which is a dark fantasy with horror elements. (Hopefully life will throw a curve ball and publish Cinder Fingers.) My unnamed novel is a fantasy story about an 8-year-old boy who moves to Honolulu with his uncle. A mysterious circus erects their tent on an island facing his uncle’s tour boat business. A newly-built fun house is the passageway to an alternate realm, where lives pirates, mermaids, zombie/skeletal forms of mermaids, dinosaurs, nymphs, satyrs, skeleton pirates, etc. The 8-year-old boy, Benjamin, dreams up things with his powerful imagination, many visions take form in reality. Benjamin also travels on the back of a dolphin. There will be many appearances of mythological Gods & Goddesses, don’t forget clowns that might change your outlook on them. That’s all I can tell you, at this point. The entire story hasn’t fully taken shape, but the chapters that are already written exceed the boundaries of anything I’ve ever wrote. When the finished product is done, you are going to be VERY surprised at what kind of story it is, and what lengths it goes to. In respect, it challenges everything I’ve ever done.

My family have suggested some jobs that aren’t related to the computer field. I just keep telling myself, if I can’t find a job that continues with what I’ve learned in school, I’m going back to be educated in a more accessible field. Though, I don’t want to be one of those people that makes a career out of going to school. I know the economy sucks, but I’m not going to sit around and blame ‘everything’ on Obama; It was sucking pretty badly before he got into office, too. I think all of the people that continuously dog the current president are losers, because if they were in the president’s shoes for 1 day, they would crack under the pressure.

As for the, ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy, which I think is stupidity at its finest; You CAN be gay in the military, but not let other people know it. That’s like keeping a personal secret and trying to fool everyone in believing that you’re someone that you’re not. So what I’m saying is, homosexuals can’t be ‘themselves’ in the military, but the country will STILL allow them to risk their lives for us, just with lesser rights due to their sinful, sexual preferences. If you haven’t woken up and smelled the hot coffee, a LARGE percentage of the world is homosexual or bisexual. Disregarding religious preferences, people continue talking about making the world a ‘better’ place and making the world an ‘equal’ place, but the country can’t even give ‘equal’ rights to almost half of the country. There will always be girls that like girls and men that like men. If it grosses you out- or you like it, that’s ‘your’ sexual preference. But why do straight groups of friends all over the world have to keep the ‘homosexual’ topic alive? Does it always amuse them or does it sometimes subconsciously intrigue them? Many people that despise homosexuality are subconsciously gay, and they live a contradicting lifestyle- hating the sex in which they have been scarred with. Is it a natural thing? After all, there are many species of animals that are birthed or have developed being gay. If these are the set-thoughts that are in people’s minds, how will your doctrine and hatred toward them, change them? Why would someone’s sexual preference upset you enough to make you want to hurt them? I don’t think anyone should be regarded as lesser than the next. I don’t care if your gay, straight, black, white, Pee Wee Herman, brown, red, alien, or hybrid. lol

-Sir Bane Defiance

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Crimson Wings (Throb Of A Pyromaniac)


“Oh, what ecstasy setting fires brings to my body! What power I feel at the thought of fire!...Oh, what pleasure, what heavenly pleasure!”
-Joseph Kallinger


Crimson Wings is a direct prequel to Storm Child. (Click here to read Storm Child.) Crimson Wings focuses on the most powerful sister of the seven fallen angels, which is a sorceress & angel of fire. Her alternative personality turns her into another character in the Book Of Revelations. This writing contains violence and sexual themes.


Crimson Wings
(Throb of A Pyromaniac)


I shall show you where she dwells, where she invokes her fires of hell. Bedazzled by her blinding, lovesick spells, this is where I battle myself. If you paddle down this river of mortal blood, you shall find her in the forbidden chamber of my heart. Yet, this isn’t where my sordid story starts. This is just an introduction to a beast so dark.

My obsession over her began like a line of cocaine. An innocent spark that blossomed into a flower of flame. She was so angry when she burned down everything that she touched. Her mouth had an appetite for tied virgins and lust. Although, she was someone’s pretty daughter, once. Now she enters my dreams in the monstrous shape of a succubus. With wings spread high for mid-nightmare flights, she pries into the bolted doors of my mind. She finds locked desires and perversions inside, and exorcizes the demons back to life...Crazed faces of damned races stare at my bare body with grins of delight. She darkens the meaning of love, tonight, before the mesmerizing tails of consuming firelight.

As restrictive as a cage in my lover’s warm embrace, a kiss to drown in passion, but I can always see “her” face. Not the face of my companion, but of the temptress demon who was embodied into the flesh of the most beautiful woman. Her glossy, red lips taste like poison, but she completes my twisted fantasies with twitching, grand satisfaction. The sexual viper bit, and sent a river of flames coursing down to the canals of my icy veins. She has lived with regrets from a dark, past life which leaves her unstable, untamed, and reckless. That’s why I call her, ember angel who rekindled from the draping and waking fires of the phoenix. I am her passive subject who longs to endure the pleasing pains inflicted from my abusive dominatrix. She who possesses the holy exorcists, and hisses as they stab themselves with their own sharpened crucifixes.

Beneath the spiked ceiling of her cruel, torturous palace, we drank angels’ blood dripping into a bejeweled chalice. We gazed from her balcony constructed in the sky and observed the glorious Jupiter and Venus align. Nero’s wildfire spread through the forests of time, and it crackled with vengeance inside her enthralled, vermillion eyes. The empress was enraptured by the sight of the inferno that scorched every morsel of earth that it could swallow. And for the heroes that would soon follow, the dirt roads were paved with lava from the volcano. She gloated from her blazing, levitating throne as the fire on her horned, ruby crown blown. As the ash blizzard snowed a thickening coat, the apocalyptic planet sorrowfully smoked.
Smear the soot off of your shallow window and be exposed to the glow of hot coals and brimstone.

The chaotic enchantress jumped down, and threw her glittering robe down to the ground. She revealed her dark, forbidden body that spun fantasy in the minds of men a plenty. She barbarically kissed my virgin lips and slashed my back with her fiery whip. She knew that I would knell and obey to her pervert mind and seductive ways. The carnal predator licked up my chest and salivated on areas that she knew best. I aimed my wet, throbbing phallus and stabbed it into her hungry orifice. As I inched through the thermal tunnel of fulfilling sex, her twisted magic granted wishes of untold fetishes. I was locked into a selfish euphoria of sweat that prophesied a legion of demons in my earthborn head. Moaning in an ecstatic mind set, the villainous goddess sank her vampiric teeth in my neck. Breeding the pain. Quivering to the pleasure. Both synced together in an explosive climax where the carnivorous harpy etched her claws down my back.

Savoring my sweet blood like a heartless heretic. Feeding on my desires like a sex-deprived nymphomaniac. Igniting fire to their churches like a pyromaniac. Hail to the lady of the wildfire. The infernal demon housed in the skin of an immaculate maiden. The mother of fuckers and murderous nymphos. The damsel who sings darkening hymns in an underworld full of fire nymphs and demonic goats. It is she who lights the lands with her blazing touch. It is she who rekindles summer’s warmth and melts winter’s diamond dust. Penetrating amidst heaven’s slashing breeze, she flaps like a bird over sunburst skies in the cursed form of a fire-breathing lizard. And through the vast lands of paradise, staffs arise to recognize her by the wicked hands of demented wizards.
She is the queen of kings, and when she sings, her lifting voice will be the trigger to encase the world in a seething hellfire. And I want to burn with her in her own consuming madness. I want to hear the screams of the innocent begging me to set them free from the witch’s orgy of chaos. For years, my eyes have been wandering inside her labyrinth of alluring fires. Tonight, the asteroids shall fall with the mystifying, meteor showers. If nobody releases me from my bewitched state of mind, remember that I was just a fallen star that the world left behind.

In an unlit dimension of oblivion, a hysterical cackle echoed through the seams of reality. Unexpectedly, a powerful voice hissed from outside the walls of humanity, “you, putrid drones of mortality. What is it that thou love? And is it I? I have a worthy proposition indeed, knell before me or DIE! Ripping off thy beautiful faces shall just amuse us. We are the fallen. Present thy ageing bodies to the ruby queen. I shall rape thee senselessly until we find that dark fantasy. Thy forgiving father shall let thee repent from thy most satisfying sin of thou life. Cain wasn’t able to live up to his fable. Ride with me amongst the back of the beast. I am the whore of Babylon. As havoc sweeps thy green lands, thou shall be greeted by my six, twin sisters, but none of them are as powerful or divine as I. Let me redeem thee from my punishing flames, let me shield thee with my crimson wings. My castle’s spire shall soon break through the soil to overworld. Arise, Beelzebub, lord of flies. Waken from thy enchanted sleep, Lilith, tempt the swine from their holy gardens. Churn the savage seas, Leviathan. I whom hath hid for centuries beneath the fabric of their diseased lives. I watched the fools build a foundation around a book of exaggerated lies. When humanity shuts their heavy eyes for a calm, serene dream, my chariot races toward the days when their lands are faithless and crumbling.”

(We don't own the rights to the image posted above.)

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Alone (In The Shadows)

Alone (In The Shadows)

Locked in a world with no direction and no inspiration. These people are lost acquaintances that I knew in another time. I am walking outside in a world that is painted strictly black and white. I began favoring solitude, but it was only my faulty mind- that led me to believe that I would be happy, alone with no mankind. After a century of walking alone and talking to myself, I realized the bigger picture, I fucking hate myself. If I was born to be alone, then I hope I die alone. No inspirational funeral speeches and no motivational songs. I want you to remember me for what I was: mute, unhappy, and dead. I did this to myself. I am a martyr to the loneliness. Living inside my head, inventing a colorful adventure in this colorless wasteland. You thought I was happy, but you are a fool to my disguises. I am a misanthrope like the gorgon Medusa dwelling in her damp cave. I am a slave to your humanity, but “she” keeps me alive. She is my respiratory system that helps me breathe- in this fucked up world, that I want to leave.

You had two kids, why favor one over the other? You make me feel like a science experiment, compared to my brother. I just wish that I could talk to you, because everything is a joke in your clown world that will one day go up in smoke. Writing this feels like I’m spitting venom. I know that you will never fathom what I just wrote, because serious emotions are just a joke in your clown world that will one day go up in smoke.

Emptiness, the one who will not let go of the happiness imprisoned inside my soul. You gave birth to me, so what do YOU want me to be? A blasphemer for my opinions or a machine for mediocrity? I’m tired of being your place-holder puppet to make your perfect family complete. I am the hollow, porcelain doll who just has a smile drawn across his cheeks. So many hands try to pull my strings to make me do their worldly things. I don’t comprehend with a human mind. I am something else. I am one of a kind.

I feel cheated. Sheltered and mistreated. They wanted me to follow a failure’s path, but I’m still not defeated. I can’t be conquered. He’s not my father. He injected me with this incurable curse, and I can’t go any farther. This life was so unguided, unsupervised, and unstoppable. To push me into a society where I would be so lost and so vulnerable.

Well, I took the time for granted and hid in the shadows, where I lamented. Just like the walls that my parents raised to barricade me inside this safe. I’m looking out of the darkness and observing all the things that you do. I envy your normality. I wish you would befriend someone like me...because I’m misunderstood and there is a fire inside my heart. It wants to spring out of my soul and tear your whole damn world apart. I’m just so tired of being ugly, but I can’t help how I came out. An insecure, apathetic, baby born of the dark. I just feel all alone, but the darkness doesn’t make me scared. I have become one with the shadows and all of its despairs. We are all puppets whose strings are tied to past regrets and fabricated lies. You have to be fighting for what you believe in, if you are still alive. And it felt like I inhaled the Armageddon. Like good and evil was fighting inside, and through the trials and tribulations, I knew only the strongest men survive.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Storm Child (Pulse Of Levitas Telum)


"The trouble ain't that there is too many fools, but that the lightning ain't distributed right." -
Mark Twain


Storm Child
(Pulse Of Levitas Telum)

I’m trapped underneath these dark-grey storm skies. Waiting for my birthright fate to realize- a purpose or a dream that God had for me, when my mom conceived this unaware baby. Well, the tapping rainstorm and thunderous skies lifts this shivering body back to life. I’m following the boundaries of the pouring rain, in this forest that never appears the same. My eyes are locked with anticipation, due to my storm sky fascination. My heartbeat throbs with a lightning clash, I’m possessed to pursue Nature’s mortal tasks.

I, the tree of tranquility, born with a face of humanity. I, the seed of fertility, grown in the membrane of your darkest fantasies. And underneath these angry thunderstorms, powerful beings push to be born. So, free your spirits to the floating isles and renounce your mortality to the storm child.

She who shall let thou eyes behold the lightning bolts retrieve thy soul. She who shall purge thy earthborn heart and submerge it into the dark. A sovereign who rules the upward earth, whose prayers favor mortal hurt. A pervert goddess who churns the winds, whose bolts target mortal men. Her spurts of magic are attracted to lighting rods. She is an alluring succubus to all the other gods. A hellish majesty cursed with the menstrual cycle of the female breed. A heartless, seductress beast whose alerted eyes meet behind the sparking orbs of electricity.

She is the dragon that guards these battled skies from the intruders that collide inside her kingdom. She is a queen that flies on temper tantrums from her cloud throne in her stormy sanctum. And I shall participate to persuade the inflictions of her parade of pandemonium. There is no need for an introduction- for an angel with a chemical imbalance of destruction. Lighting chaos. Wind havoc. Rain mayhem. Malevolent addict, let your intimidating lighting bolts strike upon their harvest grounds. Let fires ablaze and give birth to the flaming gardens that shall soon surround. Madly striking your topaz staff from your royal throne. Upon your head, a crown composed of branching thorns of lightning bolts. Forfeit thy fragile bodies and submit thy feeble brains to the witch with a twitch for human redemption and a sprinkle of insane.

I am breathing with another’s breath. I am feeling with another’s skin. I am gazing inside hazy storm eyes, hearing my voice chant for immortal sins. My arms are lifted toward the skies, fingertips pulling without my mind. I am someone else at this hour in time, perhaps a storm child on this earth, confined. I can hear your thundering dragon growls crackling behind the grey storm clouds. Your dangerous flashes alight these lands with such a deadly beauty that I can understand.

I, the robed wanderer who journeys my life away. You, the unseen archer that darkens the sun of day. A turban wrapped around my head, the winds blow my shredded cape while I climb up the highest mountains in search for my escape. And YOU, my beautiful, imperial queen. Just PLEASE break these heavy chains of HUMANITY!

Such soft lips overlap mine in a slow, intimate kiss. A mysterious, shrouded face in the rain’s clouded mist. I admit defeat in her embrace of tingling intimacy, while she ravenously took away my earthborn virginity. My spirit followed her up to the dark clouds aligning, while I looked down and saw my lifeless body, electrocuted by her lightning. I crossed over into a kingdom built in the imagination of mortal horrors and twisted pleasures. There, my soul shall be kept forever above the warring, storm clouds of mother nature.

(The picture of Lightning above is copyrighted by Torsten Hufsky.)