You were my rose,
The beautiful flower that grew in the dark,
All I knew, all I loved,
A light in my emptiness,
A balm for your void.

It felt like a dream,
Building bridges from pain,
Walking through rain,
Dancing in storms,
Bound together,
Broken yet whole.

Each day with you was sunlight spilling through the window,
Chasing shadows away.
We laughed,
We smiled,
Our secrets we whispered,
Our meaning grew deep,
Our love felt eternal.

But then we woke up.
The bridges burned,
Petals wilted,
Each day turned gray.
Thunder bellowed,
Lightning brought fear,
And the rain came to drown us.

We sank,
Unable to swim any further.
The dream unraveled,
Hope dissolved,
Music silenced,
Poetry soured.

We crashed instead of soared,
Ugliness crept in,
And beauty fled.

Why does it always end this way?
After every bloom, heartache follows.
The sacred pictures now sting,
And all that was beautiful
Has faded away.

Love, a bittersweet embrace,
A deafening silence in its place.
It breathes like the living dead,
Filling hearts with what’s unsaid.

An awfully good yet fragile thing,
Alone together, hearts take wing.
An open secret, bold yet shy,
A virtual reality under the sky.

Jumbo shrimp of grand extremes,
Pretty ugly in broken dreams.
We act naturally, yet lose control,
Cold fire burns within the soul.

Same difference marks every day,
Controlled chaos leads the way.
Sweet sorrow’s kiss, a fleeting touch,
Passive-aggressive, loved too much.

A crash landing, soft and raw,
Random order, perfect flaw.
A hellish paradise we hold so tight,
Burning ice in the heart of night.

Love defies the bounds of reason,
Fearful courage in every season.
It binds, it breaks, it heals, it scars,
An endless journey beneath the stars.

There’s a hate in my heart,
buried deep, under liqueur’s burn
and the chill of colombian snow,
strewn across train tracks,
long and wide,
stretching into nowhere.

My family doesn’t see it—
too busy with their own lies.
The preacher, with his sanctified tongue,
wouldn’t dare touch it,
and my friends?
They only skim the surface,
pretending they know me.

Hate hums like a low engine,
alive but dormant,
its rhythm keeping time with my pulse.
I drown it,
I chain it,
but it always stirs,
a shadow in the corner of my mind,
laughing softly at my attempts
to suffocate it.

It wants to devour,
to rise,
to scream its name across the empty tracks.
But I hold it down,
not because I’m strong,
but because I’m tired.

Hate doesn’t die;
it learns to wait.
It lives in truce with silence,
biding its time,
until the snow melts,
the tracks rust,
and it no longer needs
my permission.

I can't recall what’s real, or if I dream,
A scream resounds within, though silence seems
To choke my voice, to halt my every plea,
This hollow stillness smothers what’s left of me.

Love has left me battered, torn, and blind,
Awaking to a world I cannot find,
A shattered self with nothing left to hold,
Pain’s cruel embrace is all that’s uncontrolled.

I hold my breath and wish for endless sleep,
Oh, God, deliver me, my soul to keep.

Back in the dark, I feel too much to bear,
A pulse, a life, but none to grant me care,
The future’s gone, the present’s just a haze,
I wait for peace in the quiet, lost days.

Fed by memories, my body now a shell,
A love-grown relic in this living hell,
Bound to the wires, with no way to flee,
I long to sever this from what remains of me.

I hold my breath and wish for sweet release,
Oh, God, bring me a moment’s peace.

The world is gone; it’s just a distant hum,
And I, alone, wish for the day to come,
I hold my breath and pray for mercy’s touch,
Oh, God, I’ve suffered far too much.

Darkness closes in, I’m trapped inside,
My eyes have failed, my voice has died,
My mind is broken, a fractured plea,
No life, no death, just this eternity.

Love has stolen my sight, my voice, my sound,
It took my heart, my soul, and left me bound—
A hollow man, in hell without a name,
A prisoner of this never-ending pain.

Come one, come all, the carnival's here!
Bring your soul; there’s no need to fear.
Step right up to the Devil’s stand,
He’ll trade your essence for a sleight of hand.

The Dark One grins, his pitch refined,
“A bargain struck will free your mind!
Forget those rules of guilt and pain,
Just sign this slip and break your chain.”

“But what’s the catch?” you skeptics cry,
“What’s hidden deep within the lie?”
The Devil laughs, his voice a drawl,
“Oh, nothing much… just your mortal thrall.”

Religion gasps, the pews erupt,
“Without a devil, our sales corrupt!
Who’d buy salvation, grace, or prayers,
If not for Hell and its fiery lairs?”

So here we are, with goats and flames,
And theologians penning Hellish names.
They warn of demons with deeds grotesque,
But their churchly coffers grow quite burlesque.

The carnal sins they do condemn,
Were once old Pan’s own diadem.
Fertility, joy—now sins of lust,
Wrapped in fear and holy dust.

So strike that deal, make it brash,
Why burn in Hell when you can stash
The blame and guilt, the heavy yoke,
And laugh along at the pious joke?

For those who preach the Dark One’s lore
Should thank him daily, and implore:
“Stay wicked, vile, and ever cruel—
Without you, we’d be out of fuel!”

In the halls of guilt, where coins
sing like crickets in the dark,
their psalms rise, a lattice of smoke
curling from a dying flame.
fear not the sins of others,
rather the sins of their own,
more than the sins of devil,
It's the sins of the Father after all.

The altar gleams, not with divinity,
but with the cold sheen of rivers
choked by gold. Their voices echo,
hollow gourds beaten by the wind,
each note a shard of glass
pressed against the throat of belief.

Abaddon watches like a stormcloud
over fields of withered grain.
Fenriz prowls, the wolf of shadows,
gnawing on the roots of broken truths.
Lilith lingers softly, silent as moonlight
spilling through cracks in cathedral walls.

They speak of paradise,
but their heaven is a spider’s web
each thread spun from fear, damnation
each catch a soul entombed in amber.
Their god sharpens his teeth
on the brittle bones of their charity,
his laughter a hymn
their hearts refuse to name.

In each of their prayers, I hear
the rustle of dry leaves,
the empty rattle of seedless pods.
Proserpine weeps for the earth
they have scorched,
her spring now a withered hand
grasping at ash.

Their god is a clockwork beast,
wound tight by trembling hands.
They chant, hoping to drown
the clatter of its gears,
but silence escapes them,
a snake sliding through the reeds.

The equinox tides waves rise,
drowning the stones of their empire.
Sekhmet’s roar is the crack
of a long-dry riverbed,
her fury older than their creeds.
Even their God, devourer of innocents is amused,
He turns his gaze from the spectacle,
disgusted by their hollow words.

They build temples of shadows,
caverns where the echo of truth
has been smothered
by velvet robes and incense.
Pay now an sin later, their collection bowls
overflow with fallen grace.
Yet the gods of old they look on,
a quiet council of stars
watching the slow collapse.

No fire awaits them but the one
they ignite and kindled themselves
a furnace of words,
a pyre of promises.
Their sermons crumble,
a tower of sand in the tide,
and the gods laugh,
not in malice, but in pity,
a path leading to self righteousness,
yet all return to the fertile soil,
all know this as truth, even if they say not.
buy a place in the eternal Nothing!
There preachers stand preaching,
follow me and get lost, eternity for a price
and his flock follow blindly,
Sheep being lead to a slaughter.

Fire's breath on canvas,
Illusive, cruel to adeath,
Whispers pierce the night.

Loom threads lies unseen,
Velvet dusk with molten glow,
Earth hums tales below.

Dark symphony calls,
Void swallows, leaving its mark,
Shadows in the field.

Winds howl through the wild,
Vigil kept beneath the sky,
Heart dares to take flight.