the tomb is empty
yet i am not
god has found a new place
your tent, my soul, lord
your tent, my soul
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2008
the tomb is empty
yet i am not
god has found a new place
your tent, my soul, lord
your tent, my soul
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2008
like a bucket i’m kicked
on the ground all around
until i spill a river of tears
empty now
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2008
misanthrope’s been afraid all along
even tho’ he’s been feigning strong
has it not all been said before
look, a tower; look, a flower
something about the balance of power
no one listens that needs to repent
& no one’s yelling that needs to dissent
we’re all cooked as the world flames on
& now he’s wondering who left the gas on
he sees there’s no sea change coming
while others pledge to hate & kill
& just one more messianic stare
ought be enough to tip him off the edge
of a sanity pilling with unicorns
he suspects our god is flawless evil
that mercy’s become the devil’s trade
how long ’til the sun peeks over the yardarm
’til mankind swaps out the blood for gin
has this ship of fools sailed merry away
away off the edge of yesterday
where messiah’s blood was not asked for
nor its spiteful resurrection
misanthrope has his life by the noose
between an ocean & fire
here at the point of no return
look, a tower crushes the flower
sanity’s pilling with unicorns
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025
lo, seeker of transcendence
in a failed, godless universe
lapsarian in the silence
will you yet yield to the blame
outside the tyrant’s garden
of angels clouding like locusts
where an arch snake was man’s spar
their blame impugns to swarm you
but consciousness & conscience
have never been the same thing
so pocket each & every tooth
when they cry “bend” to every “no”
when their fists try to make it so
however pious they may cry
how can you ever render blind
to gaps they love upon your smile
to the contusions on your mind
in light of false providence
outside a garden not your own
how fatherless the universe
how beaten down to the ground
but intention & consequence
are hardly ever the same thing
pocket each & every tooth
when they cry “bend” to every “no”
when their fists try to make it so
in a rudderless universe
outside a garden long disowned
remember those who fought well
against all tyrants & their ilk
honour those maligned as fallen
those fallen long before your time
& those fallen in the here & now
in this lost autumn of your soul
transcendence & obedience
never count as the same thing
so pocket each & every tooth
when they cry “bend” to every “no”
when their fists try to make it so
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025
she’s heavy metal, bitch
hips slammin’ yours like a brick
her bangin’ body will fuck you up
commandeer the twist & suck
hit your senses like a truck
but none can fuck her up as much
as good as he can fuck her up
droves she’ll allow inside her
but none she’ll allow to drive her
the way her thickening dark lord did
yes, she married the fool
for his majesty she still burns
for his second coming she yearns
for his slippers beneath their bed
kissing the numb out of her head
fucking her up all over again
’til then she’s the iron fucking maiden
none will get to have what’s inside
& before they keen to draw first blood
she’ll spin the spikes on herself
the calamity that starts the flood
she’s heavy metal, bitch
she’ll fuck your hips into the dirt
to prove to you she does not hurt
the slut that whores & never cries
the iron maiden that never dies
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2026