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Mem Tanhueco Aug 2017
"Indifference"

Heed the deafening litanies of my plague that dwells inside
Answer me with a distorted lament, spit on my vain insistence
I still wait for your deluge of knives lave and drown my maladies
Fire, rain down and fill my lungs with such an addictive agony
All I'm suffering, just to watch your wings and feathers storm my heavens
Look down on me once again and deny my existence
Goad me to be on my knees, fire rain down and bury away my repentance
An aureole crowned dove will never hear my orison
Zion is you, and it's a myth for a bleeding heretic such as me
Answer my cursed prayers with your name, where my every verse begins
Mem Tanhueco Apr 2017
Suddenly it's pitching deep down
Burying beneath the callous hide
Like a virus of needles, feeble yet fast
Crawling in and out the blank eyes
Contagious, spreading and tearing
The skin that withers, bones that rust
And out dawns a disease
A lone, blooming flower amidst
Mountainous piles of rotting carnage
With it rises the grieving crimson sun
Petals and leaves in a sea of cadavers
So it grows, and roots try to reach
The far edges of the horizon

From a frivolous seedling of sickness
Now scintillates the devoid plain
It starts drawing euphoric breaths
Out of the breeze of reeking pain
The sky pulls from it a tall willow like
Standing spirited in all the awe
But it's blindness, and its blindness
Brought it ingrained to feigned soil
Bearing fruits of sordid star clusters
Bound digging for a purposeless toil
As it tries to grasp firm the fleshy dirt
It's as if a swift accretion of dust
Blown away by a quiescent zephyr

Now it see its own doubtful existence
The stench is repulsing from within
Fake are its scions of luminescence
For not the carcasses are that fester
But its own visage where putrid blood
Flows and that waters the posy earth
So it asks and draws its own surmise
From buzzing hordes of flies infesting
The dying land like butterflies
Is it healing that it truly brings
As answers wreak from the blithe lies
Maggots surge from wilted blossoms
It knows, it’s healing that it brings
Mem Tanhueco Apr 2017
The traces you left on the dirt
Like a trail of a bleeding snail
Your prolonged wails resonate
That's laced with a tormented gale
Like you're making me find you
So I fill up and you let it sink in
Let me hold you one last time
Let me touch your tattered skin
I feel the coldness of your hands
And the warmth slowly declining
Your weak grasps lose their grips
And soon they'll feel nothing

I can't tell if it's blood or tears
I can't say if it's broken or whole
I can't hear all your struggle
I can't recognize you at all
The wind thinks I'm insane
Cursing and laughing at your face
As I drag you along the pavement
I can see it make a grimace
Even with that sutured mouth
I hear you whisper and scream
Your fading eyes haunt me
Even now they're thread rimmed

It was a hard decision after all
Your voice forced me to choose
Not a knife or poison or a bullet
But a liter of gasoline and a noose 
I won't leave you rotting in a hole
What I want is to watch you swing
Swaying with the doldrums
In a tree from where you're hanging
With columns of fire shooting up
Burning twigs and black stones
A feast for the crows and flies
Blistered flesh and charred bones

— The End —