Monday, April 8, 2013

The Face

In The Demon’s Head #96: The Face

April 8, 2013
Hello everyone. Hope that you’re Monday is off to an interesting start. Before I show you today’s picture, I want to tell you a little story. Saturday I was moving some files around on my computer and noticed that I haven’t moved in a while. When I moved my writing stuff onto a backup harddrive, I noticed a file called “Metal Jacket Magazine” For those of you who don’t know what it is, it was a magazine I started a couple years ago. I had the idea of putting out monthly issues and only made it a few months in before I lost the idea and ambition to do it. Fast forward almost two years and a platform has been developed. I won’t say that this Magazine will make reappearance, but it was good to look at some old ideas. Who knows in the future it may come to something and Metal Jacket Magazine may be available again.

Enough of my Bullshitting, let’s take a look at today’s picture:

The Face

The image is burned into my head,
Like a horribly done name,
On a knitted sweater,
I can’t explain why,
But I know that he’s coming back,
I may confuse you,
But stick with me,
It started years ago,
I was a small child,
And I was taken away from my parents,
They claimed that I was crazy,
That I saw things,
That weren’t there,
That I heard voices,
That were only in my head,
The place they took me,
Kept me,
Took us on trips,
It was during one of these outings,
That I saw that face for the first time,
On a tree,
Carved in with a knife,
As if just for me,
In my head,
I knew it was a sign,
I knew that it was something,
That would lead me,
In life,
And I was right,
The face,
Was given as a way,
To choose the path,
That I needed to walk,
My parents died,
And every test proved that I was normal,
But I had been taught how to cheat the system,
By the face,
As soon as I was on the outside,
I began his work,
And saving their souls,
For him,
It wasn’t long,
Until I found myself caught again,
And this time I was put in prison,
And that’s where I stand now,
Still doing his work,
Only this time it’s inmates,
People who bare his mark,
The mark of the Face,
I feel vindicated,
Every time one of them stops breathing,
As if he’s proud of me,
But I can’t ever be sure,
I can only sit and wait,
For my next target,
I have a feeling,
That it won’t be long,
Before he pops up,
His face again.

About The Piece

This was one of those pictures where I really had no idea what I was doing at first. I had a few ideas go through my head but I didn’t know if any of them would work. Finally I sat down and started running with this piece. I can understand how it’s kind of confusing but the underlying meaning should be obvious. At least I hope so.

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If you would like to email me you can do that. You can also donate if your heart so desires. Finally you can subscribe to the blog by putting your email in the upper right hand corner. Until the next time you want to take a trip through the gates of hell and into the demon’s head, I’m Kyle Robinson wishing you a safe trip back to the surface. 

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