She had eyes like a crater,
Innocent as any girl could be.
I think she had some bruises when I met her,
But it never seemed to deter me.

I chased her like a dog chasing tails,
Was only then I started to notice her ***** nails.
And then those Yellow eyes,
Blue and Yellow never look pretty to my mind.

She belled me with croaky breathes of air,
I rushed to her house shook and scared.
She was slumped against a wall with the choker she used to wear,
Strapped around her arm and specks of ***** in her hair.

She's got track marks like a craters,
Darkness lay dormant in her soul.
A once natural and elegant Beau,
Now alone in the world of ****** and Blow.

Sometimes in a quite room I hear screaming,
Screams so evil; the sounds of a Demon.
I try drown the sound but music is only so loud,
Then the ringing starts stinging my ear drums as they pound.

I'm not hearing voices or mutter of words,
It doesn't make my choices but it does make me hurt.
Maybe it's a dead man; in anger for all I've done wrong,
Or maybe it's a dead man; singing his last song.

Perhaps I need help 'cause when I think I can't see,
I hear people in pain; or are they angry at me?
Is there someone trapped and lost in my brain?
Or have I finally snapped and lost it; and gone insane?

As she lays down in a state of bliss,
It's only after the reality hits.
She's harbouring life inside where her demons resides,
She can't afford but she won't abort; she will save a life.

What is life if happiness isn't part of the equation?
How do we validate and justify our questions and frustrations.
Is allowing life saving life? Because in happiness life resides,
She can't afford but she won't abort; she will save a life.

She's now a Mother of some standard,
Equivocally she tries and **** those demons inside her.
Her daughter finds no joy in the mother who's smile lays no happiness,
Her laugh croaked with the remanence of a pied piper.
With no food or knowledge to consume she will surely be laid to doom,
Because her Mother died as the demon who consumed her wore her skin like a prize.

Giving life isn't saving life,
Because happiness is where life resides.

i'm struggling to find hope in my humdrum day-to-day,
i'd be lovingly thankful just for this poison to be cast away.
i'm struggling to find light on the darkest of days,
i'd be grateful for a heartily whisper telling me it'll be okay.

i'm struggling today and especially tonight,
it's a looper pedal kicked down as i wonder what happy's like.
i'm struggling in ways i'd never thought were right,
it's a distorted future where I breakdown in mirror fights.

i'm struggling and i really need help,
i just wallow and swallow the pain i keep to myself.
i'm struggling for words to explain my health,
i just endure and lure more demons onto my trophy shelf.

i'm struggling to plan my death;
i'm struggling to find my breath;
i struggled once to end my life;
but now in mortal death...
...i've earned my slice.

I appear to be pushing back tears,
And I'm trying to stay strong.
Why have I been seeking forgiveness for all these years?,
Why did I romanticise my Demons in song?

I feel like the stem of a Rose,
A quaint mind of beautiful words to take away others hurt.
But I pierce the skin of those who comes close,
As I stamp on the acquaintances I left in the dirt.

Spawn of a Speed fiend and the ******* of an ***** freak,
A walking disease.
Ever so volatile and ****** to Hell like a Sinners smile,
Walking for miles in my own head,
Only to fall to my knees at Satan craving;
Death.

she's dying slowly,
and we just sit and stare.
she's dying slowly,
and we just don't care.

she's cried for help all by herself,
we procrastinate prophetically, hoping.
she's alone, scared and lost in herself,
we'll just blank it callously, hoping.

you just gawk uselessly as she cascades into entropy,
she's tried, cried and locked it all inside.
a fire burning hotter than the sun,
a fire to burn us all, one by one.

Anna lived in 3 walls and iron bars,
Put down for; as if she were rabid dog.
Pleaded virtuous to the homicide up the park,
Veritas is what she spoke; her mind was in no fog.

Anna struggled in the slammer; an easy target,
Holly was the girl who made her "life" a living hell.
Day in; Day out; she obliterated the passion to live through it,
And started to dream of a Rose Cottage; outside her cell.

Anna was cocksure of a way out; a one way ticket,
So she lacerated her bed sheets at the crack of dawn.
"Morituri te salutant" read the ticket,
On the Rose Cottage train; or as some call "The Morgue"

You see the world in greyscale,
A filter over your mind.
You feel colours in braille,
A gift plagues in your mind.

You scrutinise the sun; for all is black,
A disease that haunts your mind.
You pray for at least sadness back,
A prose of your lonely mind.

I'd go through the bay of Hades,
I'd take loans out on my soul.
I'd walk through trenches of cacophony,
Just so you didn't feel so alone.

I'd paint this earth in all the colours that be,
A gift to heal your mind.
I'd absorb the numbness that haunts you in sheets,
A plague I see in your mind.
I'd die for you, just wait and see,
And finally together we will be.

For you aren't one soul, you're an amalgam of different faces,
And if this mirror has taught me anything, it's that we lose colour in loneliest of places.

Simon was a straight A who made the grade,
But crippling news hit him like Brook's *****.
He fell into to some beastly vices and adrift was his mind,
Stumbled back up the path less traveled and down the path of the blind.

You see Simon spent his caged days in **** houses,
He was the dirt on the walls as well as the blood on the floor.
I'm sure the filth was bursting with dreary happiness and memories of Farmhouses,
Splendid days were they; when Simon had control of the Devils door.

Simon's offering his all to get clean - but it's impossible when you gawk at the TV,
A Prince marrying to a straight A Yankee, he insinuated "A happiness that seems so far from me".

That's all I can seem to recollect from my parley with Simon,
I'm sure he sundered into a rabbit hole of despair because of the Nirvana he'll never live in.

I placed Roses on the gates to Agartha,
And receded to my knees awaiting purgation.
The Earths crux; the home of the holiest harbour,
Defying my sins in hopes I become host to holy invasion.  

Now I wasn't no Martyr and I wasn't no Libertine,
I even come bearing my soul drenched kerosene.
I wailed out "I beg forgiveness for all my sins - I beg forgiveness for everything",
As the thorns from the Roses pierced my skin.

I stained the golden gates with my blood,
as I cursed the Roses to eternal fire.
Each petal wilted down and turned black with my flood, encased in barbed wire.
No mercy for a mere boy soaked in frustration and pain,
Who feared the gates to Agartha to seal;  and never to be opened again.

He closed his eyes on his weekly stroll,
And pondered on what it would be; if he'd known,
That it'd be a golden paved death - he'd lay with his dole.
Would all the trench boys still ****** to dug out holes?

Many bitter nights with malice to his brain,
Thought lasting the hardship would be the 'all okay'.
The flag would save him; The flag would eradicate the pain,
But the flag hollowed him out and the trench boys all the same.

What must we do in such a caviler present age?
Sign petitions in false hope of changing the unchanged?
The ol' trench boys still rot in sheltered accommodation.
Gave their live; their youth; their back and front tooth,
For their isolated treasured nation.

i find myself crying on the floor,
with not a soul by my side.
i've a habit of staying in doors,
i dont believe in love anymore.

i dig my nails deep into my skin,
to try find veritable love within.
to my chagrin its just senseless gore,
i dont believe in love anymore.

when i fall theres no-one there by side,
no-one there to tell me things will be fine.
so ill stay inside;
ill lose my mind;
ill lay on the floor and ill cry every night.

ill say once more;
heartbroken on the floor;
that i just dont believe in love anymore.

I can only picture dying,
I've exhausted my own mind.
It's not for lack of trying,
To extinguish these thoughts of mine.

All things I see are blue,
But I love the blue Winter air.
I'm scared of heights; that's true,
But I walk on a tightrope without a care.

I'm toying with a sordid thought,
Just to see if madness is that bad but it's not.
Insanity and madness is all that I've got,
I've tried and I have tried but it just won't stop.

This may be the last you read from me,
I just can't keep up the lie.
This may be the last I write to you,
But when it's time, paint the flowers blue.

You're too arrogant to admit I've been to hell,
Even when I left they asked me not to tell.
But they hold no fear over me; those Scarlots and Sinners,
You may judge when I open up; but it was my soul to sell.

I pranced through hell and painted it black,
Stole my own soul and they're not getting it back.
I saw so much and I laughed at the pain,
You can't taint a heart that's already been chained.

Some have since called me the 'Devil' and it's just as well,
'Cause I stood on the Youth and Laughter left in hell.
If you look deep in my eyes; you'd see the pain that recites,
Lost art in the torture of an arrogant mind.

Travis and Charlie were the best of
friends,
They shared the interest of Fireball and Gin.
They adored dressing up in alleyways and pretend,
That they were Princes and the next of Kin.

Travis fell putrid with the nullifying of his Liver,
He tried to Coax the Prince but he chucked.
The Prince turned his back on Travis' Treason River,
Lost himself in the memories in a bottle corrupt.

The tragic dismay that followed suit,
Electrified junkies and liars alike too.
Travis dressed up in his Sunday best;
To see his once best friend laid to rest.

The thoughts of suicide riddle my brain,
They're around all corners of every word I say.
Every thought I think or memory I look back,
The symbiote of suicide leaks out of every crack.

Writing and romanticising all my bad habits isn't smart,
But it's the sacrifice I make to make sacrificial art.
There's beauty in trapping myself in a box of sadness and doubt,
Walls made of paper; so maybe I can write myself out.

As unhealthy and sordid as it may be,
I find self-solitary to bring out the best in me.
As unstable and morbid as it may seem,
I find thoughts of suicide to bring out the best in me.

4 years ago you walked into my life,
I remember when you first walked up the stairs.
You were extraordinary and your beauty was knife-like,
The impact you'd have in my life; I wasn't prepared.

You tamed me; my anger, my sorrow, and my pain,
Taught me how to appreciate things in a new way.
I didn't reciprocate for a bit and for that I apologise,
And if I could go back in time I would; that's no lie.

Everyday I need to hold you tight,
My days aren't the same without your dulcet voice.
I love the way you sing me to sleep in those insomnia ridden nights,
I promise to hold you, cherish you and your lasting light,
Elisé, I will love you for the rest of my life.

I fantasise of death everyday,
I pray to sleep and pass away eloquently.
I wish not to wake nor to cry,
I wish only for peace and the right to die.

I get tired of days as quick as they end,
I left my life along with some old friends.
I get a sinking feeling where my heart once lay,
I believe it's my soul telling me "It's okay".

"It's okay to hate life,
It's okay to want to die,
You just miss feeling the feeling of feeling alright".
"It's okay, but stay strong,
It's okay to move on,
But if you don't at least try then...".

I'm prophetic and live my life through others words,
I'm socratic and will accept death when it's my turn.
All my knowledge is fulfilled with conjecture,
I'm painfully obsequious when involving niche lectures.

I'm fitting with paranoia and it riddles my brain;
Obsessed with the thoughts of passing away,
As time slips away quicker and quicker everyday.

My perception is perceived but acknowledge my sentience and you'll see;
There's a dark soul deep inside of me.

Tonight feels like my last fight as I write with a knife;
My sallow eyes drift aside as my hope for a better life resides,
And the pen I call a knife inches closer to stealing my life.
As I lay back and stare into the black corner of this one-track world of false fact;
I realise in my transient fit of thought that there's no going back.

My perception is perceived but acknowledge my sentience and you'll see;
There's a dark soul deep inside of me.

Daisy was like a flower in Autumn,
She had a face just like chalk.
Daisy had a heart that burnt auburn,
And had eyes reminiscent of a hawks.

Daisy flew from April to May,
As her happiness drained from her eyes.
Daisy flew from glee to dismay,
The devil often made her cry.

Daisy tried so ever much,
But Daisy could never fight enough,
And Daisy wilted into the ground,
Just another soul in hells lost and found.

I'm like climate because I deteriorate each day, it's a treat,
My nails are bitten to the seams just so I can feel; so I can bleed.
The nihilistic ******; I don't feel sorry; I hope we crash,
Pushing buttons in mirror cause my vision should be clearer, what's another ****?

Fear anger manipulate irate lust & youth,
The values that stitch the masses in truth.

I cut my neck to watch it bleed; imagine what I'd be if I was death on the screen?
I grip my teeth to watch them leave; crumble my soul like a God on its knees.
And when I fall back into the black kick me back; don't grab my hand,
And when I reach out it's a farce don't placate me because I don't want to land.

Fear anger manipulate irate lust & youth,
The values that stitch the masses in truth.

I want to die young to a dulcet cause; and romanticise my sins and all my flaws,
Pack my bags and leave a note; laugh it
off and slit my throat; like I give a toss.
I burnt a hole in my soul, I lost my will so long ago; I can't come back,
Forced to live without a choice; I've lost the right; I've lost the track.

Fear anger manipulate irate lust & youth,
The values that stitch the masses in truth.

In a world filled with power and greed,
Don't forget to check with them if you can be free.
They choose who you want to be and who's the new celebrity,
And when the water cooler talk starts to wear off, and when you start attack people when they don't like what you want.
When general public consensus is apparently "key", don't forget who controls exactly what you see.

You're not free,
You never will be.
The foundations are crooked,
And I know it sounds stupid,
But you've got to annihilate the system if you want to see the change,
Because they don't care about a single ******* thing that you say.
The world revolves around you and not the sun,
And you all wonder why nothing ever gets done.
You made the machine and allowed it to corrupt,
And forgot to build a fail safe, ah we're all ******...

i used to be so in love,
a feeling blessed upon me from above.
and the girl i loved,
made my heart jump.
and in such an amazing way,
whenever i thought about her my sordid thoughts would melt away.

and somewhere along the years; she twisted and changed,
she wasn't the same person; in only a matter of days.
as if the innocence and eloquence of her person had died,
but i fell to my knees whenever i reciprocated eyes.

the girl i knew died a long time ago,
i can't even recall her eye colour; blue, green, hazel? i don't know.
the girl i knew fizzled away,
her heart grew cold, and the love got frayed.
and maybe i shouldn't of saved her,
it would of saved me a lot of ink and paper.

because the girl i loved died a long time before i,
the girl i loved died,
the girl i love died.

There once was a boy,
Lonely and stripped of all joy.
He burnt his skin,
As his soul withered within.

As the days passed,
He coveted for the days that'd be his last.
And all his acquaintances shrugged,
But it was his grave they dug.

All those nights alone in a room,
On parchment pieces he sculpted his doom.
And with prowess he slipped into the unknown,
Into the hell where youth and laughter go.

There's a hole inside my head,
A blank space; a weakness and threat.
Picking up the pieces,
Of my arms I've etched.

Blind ramblings of a broken parable,
Finding a man in the sky, is it probable?
Sick to death of a hole in my head,
If I end my life I'll visit Hell instead.

In the belt of freaks, felons, and harlots,
"Seek redemption or die!" Said the varlet.
They see the evil inside of me,
I've got to find God before God finds me.

I think I understand it now, life that is,
How easy it is to lose the sense of control in all this.
We're trapped like animals and on a conveyor belt,
Awaiting judgement from a consuming generation, but hell,
I'm guiltily part of that as well.

I think I get how people get lost in the numbness of judgement and consumption,
We're all consumers consuming humour and a humans convulsions.
That repetitive nature of the newest generations has change the world,
No longer do we fight the same fight and stand beside the typical Gerald.
We look to be hurt by others and take a leap of ill-faith into broken people,
Expecting them to catch us when they can't even find love to love themselves; never mind other people.

We hurt ourselves to pause the conveyor belt,
We harm ourselves to draw blood and feel pain and escape our modern hell.
We snap like thin hard wax and damage our perfect bodies,
When we're so powerful; we could revolt and fill the lobbies.

We can make a change, stop the automatic production,
But in a modern world, we're the creators of our own destruction.

I reminisce on those last few months a lot,
And I wallow in things but this I really overthought.
I just want to say I'm sorry it took me so long to visit,
And I wish I saw you eat that meal; I can't believe I missed it.

I know you'd of hated this pity I stew in,
But you meant so much it hurts within.
My eyes get heavy when I look at your picture,
There's so many things I'd wish I'd let you lecture.

If there's one last thing I would say,
It's that I hope you're safe and heaven is okay.
That I pray you're smiling and are proud every second,
And everyday is one day closer to being with you,
In heaven.

My headlong anger lays dormant like a Dragon,
Lingering to be awoken and unleashed into the world.
It sponges all the tiny things that I let in, Lies; Idiocy; and parabolic sin,
The kind you get from Tramps clamped in a Junkies grip.  

Niceties come with a flicker of Salt,
Because no one; and I mean no one brings Roses to a boy who strolls among the living.
Hot coals scold my soul; intensified as if doused in malt,
Then anger ravages my thoughts and forces itself in control.

I can't sway my anger; picture what it'd do if I even thought,
It'd grasp me by the throat; levitating me inches from the floor,
Squeeze its fiery nails seamlessly into my skin,
And tear out my soul; swallow it whole; leaving me high and dry in a shallow bowl;
Of sin.

A wretched boy slumped through the winter snow,
Ashes scattered; the remains of whom he'd once known.
He clambered, shook, screamed and fell down,
And his knees pummelled into the cold winters ground.

He began to decline into the pebbles, snow, and dirt,
As the blood seeped through his paisley shirt.
Each breath became more withered and cold,
He grew beastly with fear of not growing old.

Just as the soul started it's ascent into the clouds,
He caught the shadow of an ashen haired shroud.
His soul was saved, captured, and regained,
But once a boys soul starts to leave; it never fits the same again.

She wakes up everyday,
To her the sky is always lined in grey.
She breaks down in a pit,
And her mind is so corrupt and split.

She covets for answers to what she desires,
As she gaits on a tightrope wire.
Barbed wire knots around her heart,
It constricts with every decision her mind can't bare to start.

She can't bare to think,
With everything that piles up; her soul starts to shrink.
The parables that play out so well in books,
Doesn't seem feasible on Hades sordid hook.

With all good stories luck starts to change,
Even those in the darkest of abyss.
Though some skies are dark and grey,
Each new day brings a new day.

Tomorrow she might wake up and the sky may be clear,
And facing obsidian decisions won't be riddled with fear.
Then small happiness will reignite her soul,
And so a peaceful mind won't seem such an impossible goal.

through hell & through earth
an angel starts to die
to death & from birth
an angel starts to die

so when we can't cry but try
when we can't die but try
it's the price we pay when an angel starts to die

we threw stones at the stars but the sky fell down
cause' when angels die ash hits the ground

and as the darkness fades to black
your soul dissipates; never to return back
she will never love you the way you love her eyes
because ash only falls when an angel starts to die