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Devoted-Void Jan 3
Love is dead.
Everything you said went to my head.
You’re Medusa in disguise.
Turned to stone, your snakes can’t hide.
The darkness is a welcoming cycle. You crawl up my veins like a spider.
My throat constricts and bleeds
In a realm of what could be.  
My soul is drowning in the ocean while you still smile.  Lost on this ship, you’re the siren.
My compass is forever broken, but You can’t **** me with this notion.  
I’m your property but my heart is in poverty
False idol who never knew devotion.
The void screams your name. But as it makes it way further, I realize it calls for me to be its frame.

Love is dead.
Everything you said went to my head.
You’re Medusa in disguise.
You’re my own demise whose lies
Poison my skies.
My stars fell and I now have lost guidance
I’m forever muted subsiding with this silence.  
False idol whose title is treachery
I promise this grey will soon consume me.
As my ending calls, I’m nothing but a memory.
First Piece I've wrote publicly in almost 7 years.  This is about commitment and waste of time and life due to disloyalty. You share your soul with someone who's supposed to be your light, but to find they're the true shadow of repulsive apostasy.
Devoted-Void Apr 2017
Hello darkness. Dear old friend.
Sorry it's been such a long time.
I feel like we should catch up, how have you been?
In a bitter sweet way it feels great to feel and see you again.
Its quite odd actually.
The thing is I found love but it told me to get back.  
I apologize she pushed me away from you. Feeling the light again and the wholeness in my heart pushed me away.
It made me numb and shot my body down.  For some reason I just didn't feel alive though even with all the sweetness.
When the wind would blow on my face I felt nothing. Smelling the earths surroundings, soaking in its beautiful water bed, felt plain and blank.
No taste.
She took me away from you and now I'm here to make up for time lost dear old friend.
Now that you are back into my soul and that my heart is a deep abyss I now ironically feel so much more alive.
I live off this pain and use it as my tool make my art. My paint stain on a canvas of lies. My beautiful disaster of lines that I write as we speak, all came from you.
Its good to have you back buddy.
Its good to feel something again.
I promise to stay this time.
I'm probably going to delete this.
Devoted-Void Apr 2017
She doesn't love me but she's reading my poems.
Devoted-Void Feb 2016
I am doomed to these four walls.
The kind that are stained with the sinister colour of hate, but filled with the stench of entrapment.
A prisoner  to this war of racing thoughts and self loathing.
I'm shackled with a chain, and at the end of it, is weight of my
remorseful regrets.
A person can go mad on such conditions.
Like bats in the belfry.
But I cope with the worse intentions that I blankly dispatch such events, and call in the wrecking ball.
Operation with the actions to break and have a calling of  destruction to these ******* walls.
Just remember you caused that structure.
So now I embrace this freedom with a ******* held higher than the pedestal you thought you reigned so high on.
You ****** me up.
You once  held me higher than I thought I could climb, but now I just say no.
Your eyes enlighten me with such serenity, but now I see the trickery behind them.
I know now what wasn't true.
I know now what wasn't real.
I know now your title will always be a harlot with an addiction of  lust  like intentions, so lay in your bed of filthy lies.
I know now what ******* **** you truly  are.
I know now I'm free.
Devoted-Void Nov 2015
Everything has become so  irrelevant.
I'm searching for an explanation but it doesn't add up. Nothing does.
  I stay Comprehensive but nothing suffices.  Its a case of reversionist logic.
     A impending cycle with no absolute meaning. Fog seems to cloud my judgement so my conscious doesn't comply.
Loathed anti prescription swallowed daily, while the white walls and blue ocean make it's scenery.
The voices try to compromise,  but it's a debate that holds an never ending rebuttal.
Always forced into the unknown.
  But a understanding of me, my voice, my demeanor, and my place in this bounden life circle is lost. So you must believe that no one will understand me.
  I consider my self a ancient relic.
I'm one of a kind but not rare.
Cause once someone sees something extraordinary over time, it looses it's taste and someone becomes tired of seeing the same thing over time..
logic at it's finest.
We all soul
search to fill life's embrace of these mixed emotions.
To experience what keeps my sanity afloat. 
 My vices keep me intent.
In a way of keeping my head up and realize what power Im withholding that makes me immune to unknown circumstances.
But the path to the void is too simple.
My courage consumes and corrupts my will of giving up.
But yet again,  it all seems irrelevant. Maybe your point of view on these lines I speak is a clear one. But then again maybe manipulative resources blind you. Or do you see my point?
In this peice I insinuate how no one will ever understand your pain or your struggle.
Devoted-Void Jun 2015
I'm so **** sick and disgusted of writing every poem about you.
            It brings me close to hatred, but that is an emotion I don't believe
                                      In.
Devoted-Void Jun 2015
You're all I hoped.
           But tergiversate gave me this
rope.
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