The Beloved's Cry

I float, on the night sky. A shadow gleaming, in the moonlight.

Transparent, fragile, yet in perfect harmony, with the winter night.

Sorrow, suffering in tranquility, past bereavement floating away.

The cycles overlapping, as calmness prevails, the last storm,

long gone.

Broken houses, shattered dreams.

Strewn across the valley, I see her crumbled past.

Her ghost floats in and out of existence, into the dark, searching.

A hand. Her heart is tired. She holds a rose, never to let go.

I am cut to pieces, the snow falling through me.

I wonder what the storm is upto now.

Destroyed in seconds, the lives of many. Destroyed the harmony,

of love and light and darkness.

She, was an amenable companion. Let the storm cut through her,

while I fought through it.

I am cut to pieces, the snow, falling through me.

But I, never mattered to her. I was a drop of dew, to the rain.

A burning ember, to the fire.

A floating lily, floating, forever.

Sylvia's Homecoming.

An abstemious silence, chortled through the mist,

with my hands tucked tightly in, I walked on.

Knowing not, where I was heading, knowing not,

where I wanted to head, but knowing this,

that I wanted, in all certainty, to get away.

I had left my coevals behind, unable, to bear any more of it,

the pain, ebbing, as the cold mist played through me.

Endless nights spent in nihility, madness knocking, every other minute,

Depravation, torture.

Behind enemy lines, in that house, they kept,

Subjects to their inhuman lust,

victims without a voice, and no shadow.

A knowledge, without a cause.

A woman without a name, and a man, who beat us,

a feeder, with his putrid flesh, and the demons they kept within.

Demons, not to be seen, and unheard of, demons, of my imagination.

The taste of blood, filling up the mouth, as they fed us, the remains,

inhuman food, I thought.

I had no choice. Chained to bear in silence,

forced, to sleep the churl.

Inebriated, with my very blood, as they pounded their stones, into us.

At first there was pain. Unbearable, mind numbing pain.

My shadow was skinned, part by part, till she gouged herself out, writhing,

as the metal casts were nailed to her skull.

Frenetically, they would rape, bite, and poke,

inducing, a trance, devoid of pain and understanding.

Furtively, they would feed on me, with their eyes gleaming,

cold.

Through the mist I could see a house, not too far away,

as I reached out for it. Dawn, would take me back.

A knock, maybe two, and the door flung open,

and she stared back at me.

'Sylvia. Welcome back home'.

A Remnant, From the Other Side

Torrential sequenced downpour, of depressed emotions,

Animosity within giving way to bestial desires of the flesh.

A blur of random thoughts, harrowing through the empty walls that contain them.

Meaningless melancholy, under a false pretense of you coming back,

To vanquish my demons that haunt me so.

My Shadow laughed at me, though euphemistically, and devoid of the certain scorn

that it sometimes does, when it longs for me to sit beside, and listen to its agony.

Hiding within the corners of my denial lies a beast, surfacing, for that single moment,

of undeterred pleasure and obliviousness to pain and morals and ethics.

I succumb to the lust, beating down, the deluge of fear, that for once seems to take control,

and dissuade the rising rush of another, old man's tale.

As his shouts resurface, I lunge into her vulnerable nest,

the chain of command, followed to perfection, and the endless night giving way to the morbid

death of a friend. But I truly did love her.

No! I screamed in my head, as he faded away, the concomitants lost along.

I struggled for every gasp of air, as my chest straightened in a spastic surrender.

Every effort, reduced me to the floor, draining me of every ounce of sanity left within, as I held, against his will.

Vicarious and random epiphanies hit me, as I lay on the floor. Waiting, for my mind to clear.

I had, I thought, fought it off.

Later that night, I slit her throat, and all was well again.

Silence.

As i walked away from him,

and away, from the child of my intricate nurturing, that I had longed so much for years,

I feel exultant. My darkness revealed, as my shadow, embraced itself.

He no longer laughs, nor taunts nor provokes.

Looks like, he has finally made his peace with me.

Euthanasia

As I wait, for sleep to coil me in its stoic silence every night,
I stare out, of my bedside window, to see the nefarious street light,
Taking away the one thing that I so long for.

Inveighing, against its placement in my mind, I stare on,
Knowing not, what I would be drawn into, come sunrise.

I pray for sleep, to surround me in all its euphemism,
And feed me, reality, only expurgated, to keep me, from losing my mind.

A car passes by. Maybe two.
The silence disturbed, for a few moments, beating back consciousness,
to a stopped heart, beating without cause.

I look out at the night, the endemic spreading through me,
As it coils me in its web, and puts me painlessly, to sleep.

Night, and the silver moon

The one lost between the years, to the congruous symphonies of treachery.

I have been cursed, to live immortal,

for a thousand years to come, and gone by.

Feeding on fear and loneliness, to satiate my obsession,

for a one true friend, who never came.

How I long for the rising sun, to drench me in a veil of light,

kissing my skin tenderly, and warming my blood.

How I long to hear the birds, sing away, in all their exultance.

In them, I find a resonating heart, incapable, of human emotions.

Bereaved, of Improvident and ignominious acts of misery.

How blessed are those who have no fears!

to whom the night brings the blessing of sleep, and nothing, but sweet dreams!

The Last Song Of Spring

Oh eternal spring, renew me in thy glory,

blow away the putrid ample from the hearts of mine,

and calmly lift the burdens , that have weighed me down so.

I have crossed over, from the dimension of my foes,

to the world of my dreams, where honey, drips from every

blossom, and men make merry.

I take non with me. For non have earned my love.

Orphaned me, in the land of sin,

and bestowed on me these thorns, that drip my blood to thee.

Marked me, with a brand of hate, and claimed me to be the din.

While all I looked for, was a knit by the fireplace,

warming, my cold hands and feet, while the broth cooked away,

and the bread, baked by the wood.

All I wanted, was a sleep, not of men or lust,

but in the solace of my dreams, of fairies and elves,

and witches and song.

All I wanted, was a dance, at my wedding, with the man

that claimed a deal of me.

But your wish, is my command. Wasn't I brought up to believe?

The lord of lords shall save the flower, from the bees,

and let it blossom and guide, till its day outdone?

And I do, like a faithful wife, married to the word of faith,

die, to meet the one who sits above in name.

And you bestow me, with a place, and a hymn to be sung, for a

thousand years, a scent, forever free.

For they have killed me. And yet, I see.

A dew on a leaf, a smile on a child about to awaken,

a tear, of a woman whose son martyr'd.

And In these, shall I live.

A Woman's Paraphernalia

Her time stood still,

sitting behind the open door, she stared out.

Into the winter street, but into herself, reflecting upon her meagre,

beating heart.

The kaolin structures stood as still as they were meant to be,

But she wished for them to move.

For she so longed for movement,

a change from her black and white life,

playing out, like a broken frame, into the hands of time.

Her tears had faded into her skin and dried,

She was a ghost, floating in and out of her sanctity,

like a reflection without a cause,

an effeminate apparition.

They, were dimorphic, of the love she had never had,

and the one she had found and lost.

Her dolls were of all hues and sizes,

they sat, beneath the wreath, by the fireplace.

She sang to them. They were all that she had left.

Her old wooden doll house,the ceramic tea set,

she would lose herself every waking moment to her paraphernalia.

How she loved them!

Their meaningless echolalia soothed her,

ecdyated her, of her burdens.

Confined to the complexities of her residual emotions,

she comforted them each day.

In return, they helped her forget her bereavement,

and atone for the crimes she had befallen on herself.

No. She was not mad.

Unless being in love, is symbolic of some strange madness.

Its just that, she chose to love, what we fail to understand.

Winter

The wind falls apart,

breathing life into the dead and deceased.

Silence, perpetuated harmony,

faint whispers, of the coming storm.

The footfalls, among the wreath.

Stillness, disturbed.

Its beauty, eternal.

Loss, grief, and forgivness.

One day this all shall end.

Float into space,and leave merely a shadow.

A shadow, among the meadows,

As winter drowns us in its veil,

And sparks of life fade away, but memories remain.

Life, comes to an end,

as darkness, engulfs us.

Endless Fields Of Sorrow

As I walk, past the endless fields of sorrow,

the night sings a lullaby, for the ones I have loved and lost.

vibrant, as always, enunciating , your name.

I cannot repent for my sins, for it is too late.

Dreams that had faded, float past,

like the last sane thought crossing before a catastrophe.

Unknown dream, forgotten, as fragments of lost memories.

They redeem me.

Stages of my life, I see,

As far back as when the sun dried my tears,

and the moon kissed me to sleep.

Perfection in vanity,among a movement, of dissolved faith.

The Road led to unpreparedness.

For what I saw forced me to shut my eyes,

and pray, in perfect paroxysm of repentence,

Fear, and wonder.

Satiating my obsession, feeding, the hunger,

In despair, conviction failed me.

I watched, called out, but the vision slowly faded away.

drenched, in cruel premonitions, I walked on.

To the darkest corners of my mind, the path led to the unknown.

every thought, took me a step further,

Un ending, the road represented the past, the present, and the memories yet to come.

Solace and submission, circles, in the water (of my conscience).

To Soar into Oblivion

Soaring away from you, answers, I need to find,

The reason, I must uncover, amid eternal lies.

Was I wrong?

Have I wandered too far away from home, and reason

you wanted to instill into me?

Have I betrayed, the true cause of your love?

Lost forever, the pain in your eyes for me.

Will I remember the smile etched on your face?

Mirroring the one on mine, drinking from the depths of my mind.

I have traveled, for so very long, growing weaker every second, but richer.

Come into me, show me the way to your side again.

Don’t count the mistakes I made, but return to me,

For this life no longer means anything to me.

The sound of perseverance, blurring, I seek on.

Death, should take me now, if ever, and sweetly hurt me.

In search of reason, I travel.

I Love you. And always will.

But Am I allowed to? Can sinners too love?

Cast a shadow of death, and draw me in your web,

Purify me, defile me.

Kiss me with your cold lip, show me the true meaning of your love.

Unlock my haze, clear my vision, and carry my shadow.

Weak and on my knees, the search futile, death, coiling in, I weep.

I see you, smiling in the mist, looking at me.

And in your smile, I see your love, that I could never see before.

But have I wandered too far away from home?

Lost Innocence

The sound that never came, became, the lullaby of the night.

I waited, for hours that night. The song was never heard again.

Satiating my obsession, in perfect paroxysm of fear,

I lay crouched, hidden from your sight, only to glance upon death.

You will never return to this place.

I will never see you again.

Morning rise, fathoms the undeniable.

I glance out to the gorge.

In Darkness fading, like the pain in your voice,

As you disappear into the fog.

You will never return to this place.

I will never see you again.

The light that never came, substantiates my hunger,

Contemplating, the meaning of your song, my life.

Diminishing, the innocent provocations that used to haunt,

I lay crouched, hidden from your sight, veiled in a blanket of mist.

The last echo of thy lips, I try to keep hidden forever.

Hidden beneath my skin, hidden beneath the scar you left.

Buried under, my dreams ridden with pain,

But over the hollow void, where hope lives.

Will you ever come back?

Will I ever see you Again?

A ray among the dark mist and drizzle.

A breeze, among the scent of dead roses.

It’s a well twisted fascination.

The fascination of death.

Embrace

Death dances, as the light drowns to a drop,

The voices of the crying children, heard over the mist.

Waiting for someone, they fall one by one.

The moon casts down, on the frozen night,

A shadow, over every one of them, blinding.

Unable to see, they still wait, for that someone to arrive.

Lost souls, like fireflies, circle the woods,

In a bid to wander away from this pestilence.

Through the open window, I hear them sing.

Within the fog, I see their shadows moving.

Into the dark, I focus my gaze,

Unable to see, yet I look on.

They stumble and call out, yet patiently wait.

In the mist, they walk on, through the frozen lake.

Answering the call of the wild.

A sad, and lonely call.

It tears me open, yet I cannot help them.

I cannot reach out to them yet.

As the mist clears, they will see me.

They will either embrace me with smiling faces,

Or cry out for their mothers.

But I, am their only hope.

I dance, as the lights drown to a drop,

The voices of the crying children silenced, in the mist.

Waiting for me, they fall one by one.

Disease

A diseased mind, a diseased body, and urges of fatal needs.

Define a soul long lost of emotions.

Impurity senses numbed. Salivating through the centuries.

Sense of guilt, flooding over every sane thought,

Decaying blood flowing, poisoning through the misery.

Necropolis of wounded heresy,

The silent water open, reflects, my inner disease.

The open wounds still fresh, stench of a long lost love.

Behold…..blood turns purple!

Thy lips, as they lock onto mine, suck out the emptiness,

From which I feed.

Memories freeze, cataleptic delusions. You reek of putridity.

Unknown to me, it will be passed on,

Offspring with the same un answering disease.

And they in turn, will pass it on.

Your Face, My face. It looks the same.

As delusions of extreme gore take over.

Deeds of the flesh no longer satisfy the ever growing urge to mutilate.

Decaying corpses, aborted fetus they all call upon,

Your necrophobic fantasies of hate.

Leprosy, bodies melting away.

Disfiguring the dying, dissecting through the living.

We live, trading pieces, of the dead,

In this necropolis, of the weak.

Fear.Obsession.

Faceless recital of the ongoing dream, I told her she was in it.

Every night, for three years, have I had the same recurring nightmare.

Ardent rain drizzling, the night, darkest.

Renewing atmosphere, the tale continued. For three whole years.

Often it would take a new turn, and I would find myself staring,

Face first, into a wall, crimsoned, with blood.

Then, the clock would strike the end, and I would be made to witness,

Her crucifixion.

Endless. It would go on and on. Her cries as the nails drove deep, as they

Undressed her further.

Nerves being split and flesh being torn.

Serenaded, before they branded her, with a red iron cast.

Expressionless, her face had become. As expressionless as mine.

Eroticism for the few gathered. They sang and danced away.

Never did they once look at her dissolving body, being burned by their torches.

After this account, as they molested her into the night,

Needless to say, they turned to me next.

Desperate, I cried out, as they closed in.

Under the blood red moon, they surrounded me, danced in circles.

Nevertheless, I looked out.

Everyone was dressed in white. All except me...and the half dead girl.

Xorn.Anger.Thats all I could feed off them. They were angry.

Playing the music beside, alone in the cornfield, was a girl clad in red.

Lustful eyes of hers trodded onto mine.

Apathising, with what I was about to endure.

I Looked hard at her.

No. I did not know her. Never had I seen something so delicate.

Emerging out of her eyes, I could see a hint of a falling tear.

Dark, as the sky, her eyes stared onto mine. Me, oblivious, kept looking on.

I knew what she was trying to say, although she kept a distance.

Half naked, I could see her bare breasts, contrast against the deep red cuts.

And then, she advanced away from me. Away into the night.

Vile feelings crossed my mind. I could not control them.

Everything around me lay forgotten, as I was left in a state of putridity.

Senses numbed, Paralyzing pleasure, a hypnotic urgency.

Everything was blurred. All I could feel, see and smell was her.

Even though she disappeared, I lay fantasized, spent.

Nurturing, the lust to remain forever, as it ceased to exist.

The scene changed.

Home.

Everything was the same.

My feelings returned to normal, and I could breathe again.

This perpetual dream, forces me to live.

Helps me stay awake.

Every morning, I find a small cob of corn, reminiscent, of my demonic lover.

You could call me crazy. I myself, think I am.

Are they real? Those people, that cornfield?

Reality lines blur with that of the unexplained.

Ethereal answers lay hidden to me.

Realization sparks a hint. The one clad in red is you.

Everything you do, reminds me of her and vice versa.

Alone spent in eternal bliss, I return to reality every morning,

Lone, to fight the day, another dream.

Devoid, or with you beside me, I do not know when I am dreaming, and when I am awake.

Eternally caught in the web of this remorseless cycle, I am forced to live. I cannot die.

As they would take me away.

Take me away to that cornfield. Away into that night.

Hours and hours pass me by, as I try to purify myself, rid myself, of the disease.

Obsessive devotion

The eyes of the northern star,

Faces, the unknown valley, perched under the silent mountains.

On misty nights, u could hear the lone calls.

Yes, they still pertain. They still drift out.

The stillness only disturbed by the faint whisper of an approaching gale.

The silent night, a purity to behold.

The moon in all its crescent glory, shined upon the dark waters.

The silent water, the giver of life, the perpetuated equity,

The balance of the harvest..

The leaves too, did their bidding.

They rustled ever so softly, ever so faint,

As if, they intentionally did not want to disturb the harmony.

Yes, the harmony. The night was ever so balanced.

The cold, the frost, the endless wind,

The nocturnal birds, the trees, the arriving fall.

The splendid patterns among the emptiest of faces.

The melancholic rhythms of the falling waters.

The song, of her lonely lips……

Hence was the night when I first met her.

On the valley of eternal stillness, there she was.

Standing, in the mist.

Singing a ballad of unspoken love and lost faith.

Clad in moonlight, wrapped in a veil of water,

Her face glowed like the reflected light emerging from the dew below.

I waited, as I could not move.

I could all but shift my gaze away.

The nocturnal birds all perched on her, as they listened to her serenade.

The moment, seemed like eternity.

Beyond death, beyond surreality, beyond suffering.

Beyond anything emotions could pertain,

Beyond, anything ever known to exist.

Disgraced was the word pleasure, during this moment of bliss.

Her eyes swallowed up every bit of the falling moonlight.

She gleamed like a thousand fires burning down the sun,

Her hair was a marinated brown, with a scent of a fallen jasmine upon a bed of pearls.

Her serenade lasted merely a few moments.

Echoing through the hills, it seemed to bring the gorge to life,

Light up the darkest of nights,

And bring salvation upon the dying.,

It seemed to wander and continue along the cycle of isolation,

Conjure life from the dead and decayed.

The winds roared, the creek babbled.

The waves, started to gather and rise.

The moonlight, overcast, silenced and confined by the clouding thunder!

Death, it seemed, was aware of rejuvenating life,

and wanted to end the process of renewal.

The waves lashed over her,

Silencing her song, killing the very breath of disillusioned hope,

The trees slashed, the rain, symbolic of hate, poured down upon me.

Then, she began to fade away.

As suttle, and slowly as she had come.

Her lullaby, disappearing into the very dimensions of silence,

That it had once emerged from,

Gave way to the only sound of bleeding rain.

I shouted, screamed through the night.

I tried but could not move, tried but failed to denounce.

I tried, yet fail to stop her from dissolving into the night.

I cried.

That was the last I saw of her.

I did, go back into the valley of frozen memories,

The valley, of haunting stillness.

But not ever, was I able to see the face I so longed for.

Now when I sit still, and look down upon the gorge,

Sometimes, right before morning rise, I hear her song.

Still as pure and gentle.

And they lock me back into that night.

Reminiscent of what I met for only a mere moment,

But fell so deeply in love with.

Till Death Do Us Part

Hallowed by your memories of betrayal and eternal lies,

Destroyed, by you sense of untimely guilt,

In a wreck of still uncertainty, I found myself.

Was it really you, who claimed to be my saviour?

Was it really you, the one who claimed to be one with me in flesh and blood?

Enchanted, I had followed you to the edge of the cliff,

like a lonely sheep, by a shepherd.

Entwined, I lived a moment of bliss.

Only to be brought back to reality, by your sharp arrows of unspoken faithlessness.

I cried. I prayed. I called for it, to end me.

To wipe me away from the face of the earth.

To end, this unspoken legion of pain erupting every second within me,

for you, my love, my life, had lied to me.

Broken the very bond of trust, that bonded us together for all these years.

Distance yourself, so very far away with your words.

You have chosen your path.

Now I forsee, what was never meant to be real. You ever never meant to be mine.

You just charmed me for you own selfish need, to suck on me, like a parasite.

You, have pained me.

Maimed me, forever.

From this point of time I proclaimI will never trust you again.

Till death do us part,

till death, do us part.

I promise.

Death, Beauty, Silence, Bliss.

A vortex of innumerable memories,
A deep thirst for redemption.
I'll never know how i mistook her for what she claimed to be.
Death.

It tortured my soul, to be around her,
knowing not, what to say,what to believe.
Lies she cared to reveal in time?
Or my conscience dying within?

False beauty charms even death,
as it did to me.
She promised me a life.
She promised to care, promised to lay beside me.

As the winds of change turn the clock anew,
She swept herself away, deceived like a blinded child,
I lay buried, within the realm of her memories.
Silence.

Pestilence, sickness and transiency,
Death, Silence and bliss.
Yes, suicidal thoughts, had crossed my mind.
In the labyrinth of mistaken identities I had forged for myself,
I decided to take abode.
Bliss.

Dried up tears, a few slashes healed,
but the broken ego, and my shattered soul remained.
Remained and it still does, as i try to hide them away.
My face held high, I try to walk,
I try to enunciate her name, for gone though she may be,
In my heart she still remains.

Garden Of Shadows

Garden Of Shadows


My dreams, have died, along the meadows,
among, the fall of faith.
Among the inner shores of land,
Above, the wicked wave.

My dreams, like yours, were set up high,
Perched, reflections of time.
Of tide and calls of immortal lies,
of spirit, of sacrifice.

As I knelt beside, the grave of you,
Burdened by your tears.
Burdened by your loss of faith,
ordained, by your fears.

I felt the pangs of surreal life....
emotions, drifting away,
arching against the abandoned sand,
as the skies did fade to grey.

The shadows fall, forever deaf,
brushing the burning void,
The solace of your fatal kiss,
the thoughts, of your noise.

As vesper's nine strikes the dawn,
and brings forth a wave of change,
the river of time flows frozen,
into a vortex of insignificance and pain.

O Garden of shadows! By thy will,
accept me into the night!
Feed me by thy purity,
restore, my state of mind!

Personified Resemblance


Among the halo of a lulled stillness,
a faint whisper echoes.
A silent call of death,
a voice once rendered to life.
It travels among the meadows,
like the hush of a lone gale of wind,
or footfalls among broken leaves.
Like the lone call of a mighty wolf,
the lone cry of hate
The perennial voice floats,
untouched by death.
Untouched? or is it death itself?
disguised among the stillness,
perpetual yet perennial?
dead yet immortal?
Infinite hours in exile, the echo resurrects itself,
arises, yet again. Timeless.
As the eye fails to see, and the mind fails to read,
the nocturnal voice continues its cycle.
Of perdition, of death.
Of lies and faith.
Of destruction,and pain.
Incessant, upon the darkest of nights,
waiting , thriving, hidden beneath its veil,
the echo whispers a lullaby of death,
and puts the angst to sleep,
as it drinks from the very depths of human weakness,
and possesses, the very being.
Let the harvest come,
we will dance under the bleeding moon above,
and join the eternal cycle of suffering.
As the confined earth, and surrender,
to the ever haunting being.
The immortal echo.The haunting echo,
as it vanishes, waiting to reform.
waiting, for all that is etheral
all that is immortal.
The voice once pure of wrath,
of grimace and hate,
has proved to the mighty being,
it is just as strong as thee,
just as symbolic, just as painless.
Just as devoid of materialism.
The echo,
resembles me.

Of Grief and Honor

As flowers fell, to her grave below,
I could all but see,
the cycle of conviction,with which she dreamt,
she dreamt of none but me.
Of the purest of blood was she,
like the tears of a thousand fallen angels,
the sound of a winding roar,
of lashing rain, and a thunder spree,
among, the open sea.
The mist of splendour never lifted upon,
so as I could never see,
never try or claim, to hear
her voice, in her sanctity.
A fallen angel does rise again,
among a dreaded path,
the signs of still immortality,
her sign of condemned wrath.
She fights on like a venomous knight,
mounted, saddle free.
A gallop on the silent night,
an echo, forever free.

The Immortal Pass

Death,from a distance away,
has forgone, the immortal pass.
Its blade of wrath, unconquerable,
A dominion of winding fatality.

Death plays games, of hide and seek,
of flame, admist a cry!
The child of hope, no longer lives,
as Death came winding by.

I have chosen the late,
the same song upon, my lips draw blood,
from her veins so queer,so ravenous,
that it has shed ,a stream of lies.

Chosen death over life,
envied, through the agony,
bore the child, in disharmony.
Eternal lies, as my voice was heard.
One last time. Yet, it still echoes.
undisturbed, through time.

ClOUds OF wAR

A kIllER stOrm wiNs,

a FragmEnteD viCtorY, swEarinG thUnder StrucK

I haVE kIlled Thy soUL, uPOn mY knEE,

aND hAve deStroYEd, thUnderstrucK.

WitH it cOme tO inVErt, oUTsidE shIne tOnighT,

CroWned bY lEviaThan, bLood oF vibRation frEEing inSiDe.

See More fIeld Of vEnom stRikeIng thE vein,

cLoudIn' Voice?

anNihilate the Pain.

BlAze oF sPlenDour, sUmmoning gRim,

ThE vEnoM of GhoUls, fORcin' Still,

I aM thE maSTer sInneRr,

sNOw oF lYmpH,

deFEndiNg, all tThaTS EthEral,

I'LL fOrgIve yOur Sins.

A Lover's End

I cannot see, and I fail to hear,

the ballad of thy love,

As true love, has vanished from thy soul,

Like a withered, purple despair.

I lived for thee once upon a time,

I lived on silence, and your infinite face.

On Light, so bliss, it charmed once did,

So bright, among the haze.

My love's death was trajic,

although ,once, it was proof,

Once it was made of blood,

for your essence, was once true.

With its end, I came to see,

on my immortal prison abode,

Death spurns life, it sets you free,

upon the mystic road.

Your beauty lives on,

burning bright,

lighted mystic tree,

yet, you live like never before,

though unloved, by me.

Hope leaves

I feel distant from reality, everything to me is at times a big movement, people pass me by,without registering,meaningless..... A movement of everything that just keeps moving, and motions within the things that are moving are triggers to the emotions which it presents, so I tend to make things more intense, or bring out things that you may not see, or do extreme expressions so I can feel what Im bringing out, because sometimes I feel as if I connect to another world that consists nothing of this world, as in beyond emotions, and physical existence,beyond pain, and beyond love,beyond betrayal and beyond Redemption. I think its nirvana, and when I connect , I intensify it by the things that I do. I connect ,so deeply that I find myself not feeling a part of this world as me,but a thousand frequencies,one, with nothing but everything.........lost within the realms of reality and Psychosis...,the divide vanishing.......Again.....this might sound Hypocritic to you guys, but its what I feel within......and to anyone who knows me,its transparent.