Ravaged,
ruined,
rotted,
I sit here now besotted,
for all that I have done,
all the good I've wrought,
is over gone and done,
my work has been for naught.
This day I leave the light,
and journey through the night,
my heart has been destroyed,
I sink now to the void,
and lay me down to sleep,
where demons stalk and creep.
My hardship pain and woe,
leave marks upon my bones,
my friends of youth now gone,
I truly don't belong,
In venom I abide,
my shadow comes alive.
I carried pain and heartache,
harmlessly though the years,
I soured my mind and body,
and overflowed with tears,
but never have I slipped,
no never have I slain.
I fear though in this moment,
I won't claim so again.
Mar 23, 2023
Mar 23, 2023 at 12:21 PM UTC
Agony is firm,
eternal, pure and clear,
it's quite good friends with Patience,
and comes from Yesteryear.
It lounges at your bedside,
and curls up by the fire,
it follows you to market,
and bed when you retire.
Agony is lazy.
It doesn't do a thing.
It stays beside you always,
and doesn't mind time's sting.
You might just think it breaks you,
or shatters through your mind,
but Agony's not Fury,
it left the heat behind.
See, people think it's vicious,
they think it wants them dead,
but it only really wants,
to live inside your head.
It simply stays in place,
and lets you ponder it,
til there is nothing else,
and your soul just ******* splits.
Dec 16, 2022
Dec 16, 2022 at 11:37 PM UTC
You put hooks through my shoulders,
and hung me like a ham,
you cut and sliced and burned me,
and hacked out who I am.
And when I clambered down,
and sought a path anew,
I tried to hide but couldn't,
from the hooks in my sinew.
Is my pain from metal,
yet embedded in my flesh,
or is it just the memory,
that wounds me now afresh?
Someday I will be free,
of your hateful love's black chains,
at least I know for sure,
I'll not be hooked again.
Dec 16, 2022
Dec 16, 2022 at 11:14 PM UTC
O'er the waking world, the sun doth rise,
bringing light to wake'ning eyes,
warming fields and mountains high,
and dawning hope unto the sky.
The beasts of earth yawn, stand, and stretch,
and think of food they might go fetch,
while birds soar high and seek their meal,
and on and on turns natue's wheel.
The wolf pack runs and catches prey,
they lay to rest the sick and grey,
the deer will eat the grass he feeds,
thus even he aids his prey's needs.
Every day a life may end,
never to be lived again,
this doesn't stop this world's fair beasts,
they run and swim, they fly and eat.
The strongest beast that we can know,
hates and preys on man alone,
all others **** from need to eat,
they seek their prey for juicy meat.
This one gnaws upon one's soul,
until the self is gaped with holes,
while careless beasts enjoy the land,
Worry robs true life from man.
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 8:04 PM UTC
Words are such a fun, strange tool,
although they have too many rules...
Some words are big, some words are small,
exorbitant, violet, and tall!
See? Words are fun,
and if you're clever,
they might aid you,
in your endeavors.
For there are MANY words to use,
like happy, joyous,
hurt, or bruised?
The clever find the perfect spots,
to twist their words,
but not in knots.
Being strong is fine,
and wise is swell,
but being smart is key as well.
If you can fight,
or quote great verse,
but create nothing,
what's it worth?
Though some people are great and kind,
in case they're not...strengthen your mind.
Not everything is crucial practice,
but every weak man surely lacks this.
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 1:38 AM UTC
The room before you begs explanation,
so let me assuage your consternation,
and try to imagine if you can,
that despite the scene before you,
I am not a hateful man.
You see my startled listener,
I'm a man like most you'd meet,
I have to wake, and sleep, and eat,
but those needs are never the sum,
some men must build, some father sons,
some men must paint or write their stories,
or do great things to gain their glory,
but there are those with less noble needs,
who infest the garden of man like weeds,
these awful men must take their hurt,
and work it deep into the dirt,
they choke the garden blooming bright,
and hide their crimes from their fellows' sight.
All men suffer, as I'm sure you know,
but some men do not keep their woe,
some awful men must spread their pain,
for they cannot bear the weight and strain,
these weaker men seek out the kind,
the soft of heart and calm of mind,
they think they have a right you see,
to hurt the sweet and call them weak.
That's what this blood is from, you see,
for no-one hurts in front of me.
Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 8:49 PM UTC
Even evil is divine.
Destruction, death, ruin, it's all part of the natural order the same as life and love.
So why do people see those things as evil instead of just...normal?
Normal doesn't make any sense anyways. Normal for a deer is eating plants, normal for a wolf is killing and eating a deer.
Killing's not bad. Nothing's, "bad", some things just don't do certain things, and only people have actually got the idiotic idea that anything THEY don't do must be, "bad".
We all have our place in the natural order. Predators, Prey, so on and so forth.
Just because I'm surrounded by Prey doesn't mean it's, "evil" for me to Hunt...reality isn't a democracy, and if I can **** the Prey that call my kind so evil...why shouldn't I?
Someday, this useless, dead hulk of a country I live in is going to finally die, and a lot of people are gonna die without ME ever having to bother them at all. Soon as folk can't just microwave their food, there'll be a lot of people that can't feed themselves anymore.
But the ones that get past the initial crash...they'll be interesting. And they'll make for the most fun Prey out there.
I can't wait to chase them...
They'll tell me what I'm doing is evil.
"Hush little one, there's no evil here. Only Hunger."
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 6:31 AM UTC
I want to Hunt.
I want to find Prey, and take from it, the way Predators have done since time immemorial.
Beasts like me are meant to Hunt, not sit around and play pretend that we're Prey, or are just there to be guard dogs for them against, "bad people".
I don't want to be subjugated by Prey animals because of their opinions on how a Beast should act when I am perfectly capable of breaking every bone in the hand they're using to stick their finger in my face.
I tire of being bossed about by Prey and by Weak Beasts. I tire of being limited based on fantastical versions of reality in which there are no Predators. What angers me most is that there's enough Weaklings that are willing to defend the Prey that I can't have at any of them without being locked in a cage or killed. By my OWN KIND.
Someday soon, when the laws of Men fail, and We the People are forced to fend for themselves...they will remember that the Predators are still there.
When the laws of Nature that Prey thought they could hide from come, yet again, into effect- they will remember.
And they will wish that they had hidden more carefully.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 6:55 AM UTC
There are two wolves inside all men.
There is one that is Jealousy, Selfishness, Rage, and all other terrible things.
There is one that is Honor, Peace, Wisdom, and all other good things.
Or at least that's how the saying goes.
That saying also says that those two wolves fight, and the one that wins is the one that you feed.
Well, here's the problem with that-
If the Beast is the size of Fenris, the Godslaying Warg of indescribable power...It's not gonna matter for anything how much you feed that White Wolf.
That White Wolf is gonna use all the energy it gets from the food you give it just to keep itself away from the Beast, dodging its assault.
The White Wolf can't fight the Beast. It can survive the Beast. That's all it's gonna manage.
So, when you're trying to be that White Wolf, and you're trying to keep up with the giant, slavering Beast that wants nothing more than to **** eat, and forget you, the same as it wants to do with anything else- sometimes you wonder why you keep evading the Beast.
Because it hurts so much from the exhaustion and the burdens that feeding yourself place on you that you don't know if you WANT to keep moving.
Is there really anything wrong with just...laying down...relaxing...letting it all end?
After all...the poor Beast over there just wants to eat...and he's been starving as long as I've been alive...
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 8:48 AM UTC
I've never been capable of true Hate,
It's not a part of who I am, what I am,
I can be Enraged for a time, but it burns off,
so now I wonder, as you push me away and stab me,
as you revile and curse me,
do I Hate you?
I don't feel Rage for you,
I don't want to tear the flesh from your bones,
I don't want to rend your body asunder,
but I still feel like I dislike you,
though it is definitely more than that.
I think I may finally know what it is to Hate.
To be reviled, distrusted,
to not be cared for,
to be in every way rejected,
though I show nothing but good towards you,
I think that has made me feel Hate for you.
It is not hot like my Rage, it is cold,
It is not swift like my Rage, it is slow,
It is not impermanent like my Rage, it is lasting,
And I think I'm okay with that.
So yes, I Hate you. And I almost want to thank you for teaching me what that means.
Almost.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC