Bitter sentiments

Weird, tailed, horned animal, what are you thinking?
Animal replies, "Nothing at all" ,
"Are you scared of death, oh animal?"
Silence, followed by more silence,
"Animal, can you hear me?",
And then he drops dead right at my feet.
Death is peace, weird animal, life is harder
And seems like you were pretty much on the border;
But now that you've broken on through to the other side,
I gain solace from the fact that when it's my turn,
I'll feel free to ask you for a ride,
You appear reproachful, even in death,
The explanation to which I have none,
Is it not fun,
Not to be on the run,
From life's nitty-gritties,
And for once,
Not to hide from the sun?
You spoke very little when you lived, weird animal
And now nothing at all, boring me to death,
Are you trying to pull my leg,
With all of your stealth,
Getting ready to startle me out of my head,
Shatter the nice, sadistic illusion I form out of seeing you on your death bed,
But not to stress,
I'll play along and greet you like an old friend,
Apparently happy that this isn't your end,
But when that day dawns,
I'll make it a point to tell you what I felt,
I'll even throw in the remarks you'd call below the belt
Because the only time I felt you really listened to me,
Was when you didn't...

OH SNAP!

Cut out your own throats,
And jump off your ergonomic boats,
Don't care about your communist votes,
But continue making your fucked up notes
Be the beast you're meant to be,
Open your eyes and see,
The carnage,
Of this never ending rampage,
And the resulting damage,
To which, proudly, you are the key.
First step is to believe,
Then sigh in relief,
That your conscience allows you to conceive,
A nightmare that lies before you to feel,
The hero of your odyssey,
The villain of another story,
History has played its dirty trick on you,
Finally, stuck you are, my friend,
Between the vagaries of false and true

Book talk

First page of the book,
Gives you a sullen look,
Questioning, challenging you to its routine game,
Devoid of a new pair of players,
The book being a constant participant in this cliche art,
Welcomes you at the start
In the words of the book itself-
"Will you leaf through my pages,
Spend time on some some more than the others,
Or will you fall in love with them all,
Keep reading without a stall
Level of interest showing no fall?
I only say what I'm meant to say,
Say the words through night and day,
No lies and deceitful stories, and exaggeration at a null,
But, mind you, sharp enough to breach your skull,
Coincidentally, if you're dull,
And gloomy or upset,
Words to enlighten you, you retard,
Are here a many, to hit you hard