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As time passes by
We romanticize
What we once despised
There is a cemetery in your heart worth minding,
Where the bones of your lovers are always grinding,
The path in is simple; escape long and winding,
Love is so rarely mutually binding.

Dig me a grave there, keep me bound.
Hold me by the hair, through your fingers wound,
As you push me harder into the ground,
Till I am buried within you, my funeral mound.
 Mar 2017 Mozalios
The Noose
Balmy breeze whispering
Through the gaps
In the field of trees
Auroras fluorescence
Overhead
Aglow in your irises
Like the red August blaze
Of autumn's past
Vibrant lucidity
Pulsating in your veins  
Give me your light
Take my gothic.
 Mar 2017 Mozalios
The Noose
The pernicious burn
Of self-distrust set aflame
The gothic sea
Recalls my scent
It pursues
Like a hungry ghost
Once more immersed
In the familiar waters
Of dolour
my entrails seaping crimson blackness into my heart
Bitten by the rotting incisors you force into my flesh
My body seeking your gaping void
mere mortals describe as a mouth

Your dark hollow soul blackening Cutting my thin cold skin i let you in. Feeling our flesh merging in this torturing oneness,
Filling the cavities of endlessness.

i yearn to feel you feasting upon my clammy cold covering desiring for the essence of your inner being to take me whole devouring my crescent moon in undertones of a wild demonic frenzy

Extracting dark passion from your soul Staring into darkest nights of your mind's cavity.
Through your soul, a black gaping hole. Darklights seeping through my sanity.

searching for a searing flame
it matters not that my etheral love is a force from another plain
i can only believe in the feeling of you

Perpetual fear of being hurt long i went through.
This torturing love you wrung me through.

my cold dead heart lingers in a state of confusion
serving only to terrorize my mind
forever playing tricks on me
for a soul ive left behind
copyright gothic mistress and satan 2010
She is the dark feel of the night
She is the mystery with no light
She hides away in her own pain
She knows how to drive me insane

No one can be as she can be
My gothic lover can never be free
I can see it all deep in her eyes
No one has seen the tears she cries

I know what I feel is wrong
My will slips and is not strong
She is sending temptation my way
I feel my soul wanting to stray

She is taking me down dark places
Teasing me as my body feels her traces
Kissing me and biting me with her lust
Not waiting and wanting my body to ******

I am lost in her body this very night
Each sensation inside her takes away the light
She wants me badly and our bodies glisten
Our sweat mingles as creatures of the night listen

My passion is ready, deep inside her it fills
She takes it all with her lust and her skills
Her body is hot and I can feel her heat
She wants me more as my heart will beat

All this night, until the light of day
She never stops for this is her wicked way
I surrender knowing that she will always win
For I am a prisoner to her desire and sin

She now vanishes from where she came
I know I will be back to play her game
No one can match her, there can be no other
I will always come for my gothic lover




copyright Chris Smith 2008 (revised 2009)
 Mar 2017 Mozalios
Poetic T
Insanity
                               Is
Leaving
                                                      The
            Latch
Swigging

                                                               ­          Inside
           Your


Minds
                                                         Door.....
 Feb 2017 Mozalios
Dhaara T
The one who melts you
And sets your aching soul free
Will also **** you
Update (28/02/17): Edited it a bit. Thank you, Jim, for correcting me! :)

Read so many, and always wanted to try, but was often intimidated; today, after about 10 years, I dared to. My first attempt at haiku, how did I fare?

Also, numbering it, since I plan to dare to attempt again.
The crowd watches, crying silently.
Three figures gather around a black coffin with a red trim.
They all lay a gentle hand on top the shining surface.
Tears fall down their faces, not for the first time.
They all move to their rightful places on the stage, the fallen brother in the center.
They start playing a set, dedicated to the Killjoy the world though would never die.
As the first note to “Welcome to the Black Parade” is heard, people begin to break down.
They play the cheerful songs as well, though they aren’t as much.
They’re crying as the memories of life with him swim through their heads.
“NaNaNa,” plays in a slower way.
More of a painful cry for the moment.
They struggle on, through the songs, each remembering how it felt to play together as a family.
Each feeling that it’s different now, it’s not whole.
And as the last song came to be played, they all remembered their band’s last concert.
People became hysterical, as “Famous Last Words” plays on.
Citizens across the globe cry, as they say goodbye to their hero.
And as they all watch the casket being lifted and carried down the aisle and to the hearse, they all, united as one being, whisper quietly, “…so long and goodnight…so long…and goodnight…”
And as people all around hug each other in a desperate attempt to comfort and be comforted,
One person smiles.
He’s there, though they cannot see.
He wipes their tears away, though they cannot feel.
He tells them, “It’ll be okay,” “He’s here,” and “They’ll see him soon.”
They do not hear.
But deep inside they know he’s there,
Smiling bitter-sweetly as he wipes their tears,
Hugging them, as he whispers words of comfort,
Because they all secretly know,
That a Killjoy Never Really Dies.
Written 10-26-24
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