Create me to love,
But to never be accepted.
Bind my soul to sin.
Then for sin, deem me rejected.

Destine me to burn,
But to never burn clean.
Create me in divine image,
That's never to be seen.

Persuade me to trust,
To ensure I’d feel betrayed.
Gift me with a life,
To watch a life's decay.

Give me fragile emotion,
To observe my shattered core.
Hoard all sense of peace,
In a world at constant war.

Offer me no wings,
Then demand I ascend.
Force me to be strong,
Then force me to bend.

Decide my directions,
Then curse all the roads.
Promise me forgiveness,
That's neither felt nor shown.

Mold my faulted psyche,
To be damaged by confusion.
Make real my nightmares,
Make my dreams the delusion.

Shackle down my conscience,
Then tell me that I’m free.
Create me in divine image,
Drive me to hate what I see.

I know I’ll never fit my skin.
It’s tired, worn, useless, thin.
A star's glow trapped in my eyes.
Buried in dark, I see no rise.

The weight in my chest,
from poison in my breath,
Plays the hymn of my soul,
On the strings of my death.

My shadow, a wanderer,
where light dares not tread,
Dreams forged in the gallows,
where demons are fed.

Each song, a lament.
Quantum sonnets ignored.
In the endless night,
bound to the darkness I hoard.

My pulse-heavy hand,
Strums as loud as it can.
My heart beats a rhythm,
Erratically unplanned.

My rhythm of chaos.
My melody pure.
My quivering voice.
My lyrics, unsure.

But the echoes swell,
As they scream in my mind.
Like a serpent in Eden,
I'm dark and divine.

Deep in this garden,
where a serpent has right.
I wonder the blackness.
Trying to carve out my light.

If only for like souls,
Lost deep in this doubt.
Seek me, I beg you.
Let me guide you out.

Though I may be worn,
my heart may be scarred.
My ways questionable,
my body may be charred.

Seek me in the deep,
Though darkened my path,
I'll carve out my light,
And threaten no wrath.

Seeing through won't be easy.
And hope becomes a foe.
This darkness instills,
A foreboding woe.

Find me in the blackness,
My warm heart, my cold hands.
You'll know my voice,
when the hair on your neck stands.

I want to hold the moon, in the stillness.
As a newly healed being, forgetting his illness.
With transcendent secrets, long lost, and unheard.
Converge with the earth, my body returned.

It's not just the glow that my soul truly seeks-
But the calling of a gnosis, at its brilliant peak.
The kind that would nurture without word or touch.
With pulses divine, surging through me in flux.

I want to push oceans, form the tides Mighty sway.
As nova's light the way, even brighter than the day.
Not where I am dying, but drifting sublime.
Through a cosmic stimulation of emotions and mind.

To hold the moon is to be as the dark,
The Infinite void with no ending or start.
To weave through galaxies in quantum ascent.
To be untethered, unmeasured, and unbent.

For there's a place where echoes of gnosis still call.
Where darkness is divine, as it stands without fall.
For when all existence comes to end, as we know it.
Darkness not only lives but will thrive by the moment.

The stars told a secret, the divine know our depths.
Our intentions are gold. We're not at fault for our steps.
I want to walk where quantum waves ebb and flow,
And merge with the calm, only the moon has ever shown.

To hold the moon is to live as the night.
No longer chasing myths of a misguiding light.
To rest with the shadows, unobserved in their allure.
My failing charred heart, reborn by the nights cure.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

I want to hold the sun, as a flame.
As a shroud that no longer needs his name.
Devalues his origin, and the costs incurred.
I'll dissolve in the furnace, my body deferred.

It is not the burning that I truly seek,
But a quiet surrender, at a radiant peak.
The kind that evaporates matter aligned,
In myths of forever, leaving time behind.

I want to watch as light rays become dust.
As suns burn hollow, saturate and then rust.
Not where I'm dying, but morphing sublime.
A process dissolving emotions and mind.

To hold the sun is to grasp at gold.
Abandon the flesh, that's grown tired and cold.
To slip through the cracks where mortality turns.
And breathe in the silence as lungs start to burn.

For there is a place where the ashes belong.
Where shadows are living and scream with a song.
Where the afterlife is not just a realm I'll behold,
But a quiet ascension to a gnosis untold.

With stars I share a secret. "The Divine are forgiving".
Their quantum doorways are their gift to the living.
I want to walk through, with that luminous flow.
My transmogrification into the unknown.

To hold the sun is to become its light,
To no longer struggle in the dark cosmic fight.
To emerge as the stardust that I know is pure.
Lay the illness of a life in defeat by Deaths Cure.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

I Am The CaveDweller

My soul is bound to the comfort of night.
I see peace in the eyes of those walking in light.
Why is mine a lonesome, misbegotten path?
Bound to my darkness, with blackness, my craft.
They see vividly what I see in smears.
I'd rather be Blind, never seen it more clear.

I Am The DeathEater

My path, criticized. My love, mistaken.
My truths, demonized. My intentions, forsaken.
I exist in my very own questionable ways.
Is what they may say. But yet, either way,
They have failed to explain such a lack in my soul,
The obligation to judge someone's ways, or my own.

I Am The DreamKeeper

I only doubt the meta-space where I belong.
At any given time, my intention is not wrong.
Why am I undeserving of the blessing of eyes,
Capable of enjoying this dreadful paradise?
Designed in a way to be loved in its allure.
Yet my reality holds a truth morbid and obscure.

I am The FleshKiller

My outward darkness veils a radiant light.
For under the skin, I am truly alive.
Aware of the truths, of the infinite "you",
The finite "you" hides from others, and you.
I criticize my flesh as if I’m it's maker.
I'm ashamed of this life. But I'm not a LifeTaker.

I Am The LightBringer

The allure of light is heartbreaking.
As I remain in my statuette state of polarity,
I will only dream of me belonging.
It remains and sustains, acceptance and peace.
Yet for me, they remain just out of my reach.
I die by the hour while soaking in bleach.

I Am The FatePainter

I'm a sinful sonnet, a broken poem within.
With my creative means to my own creative end.
The TruthCraving LieBreaker, known as my head.
Screaming “This is the end. You'll never begin again..."
Yet I face another canvas, this in mind, for my sake.
Every stroke I can make, paints my darkest mistakes.

I Am The MindShaper

Limited possibilities of existence make me numb.
I understand every start brings a darker outcome.
Is there really no promise, of existential peace?
Can a bright soul, entrapped, ever be set free?
I only question form, from within this faulted case.
In metaphysical space, I've been put in my place.

I Am The EndSeeker

I cannot obtain, what I have never seen.
To live and show love is to live a true me.
I'm a creature of creation, On this abysmal planet.
I'll orbit the sun, I will suffer, then I'll vanish.
I float above the black. Trapped below the white.
****** hands washed with tears, as I carve out my light.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

I am not whole. I am fragments, arrayed.
I fade into gray. The dusk steals day.
A shadow in time, I drift out of scope.
I'm lost in some void I've created to cope.

Am I real in the moments when I am not seen?
I'm dead in my light, two souls caught between.
My thoughts twist and turn like an entangled thread.
I'm alive and I'm dead, both only in my head.

My truth has been lost, Identity unclear.
A haunted soul screaming that only I hear.
My sight is obscured. A curse left me torn.  
I'm the dead that I mourn. I'm the living unborn.

Through time’s endless loop, I twist, and I bend.
In stories untold, cause they’re never going to end.
My mind shifts dimensions, untethered and free.
Yet bound by the question, “What’s really left of me?”

My past echoes a dead voice that remains.
An unobserved self, that's still screaming in pain.
There's a rip in our fabric, a crack in our sky.
His dreams are now shrouded, the nightmares are mine.

I’m a riddle I've created, that I can't even solve.
I fall like the snow, I silently dissolve.
I grasp at the stars, but I'm burned by their light.
My Passions, like flames, smothered from sight.

Not of the flesh, the blood, or the bone,
A desolate recluse, that never feels alone.
I speed through the night just to die every day.
I'm valued for words, till there's nothing to say.

I'm the outlet for a lonesome omni-God.
Caught between the real, the imagined, and the fraud.
I vanish so quick, like the smoke from my lungs.
The thoughts I can't translate, I'm thinking in tongues.

I ask who I am but never give Myself answers.
My condition never ends. I'd rather it be cancer.
I'm nothing but a ripple of thought in my dreams.
Then the moment I'm seen, I lose everything.

Through layers of time that I cannot perceive.
Bound by the question, “What’s really left of me?”
A shadow in time, I'm drifting out of scope.
Tangled in entangled strings, lest I hang from a rope.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

As shadows take the stage, patterns merge into design.
Not shapes nor in lines, more like visions in the mind.
Through this foreseeing lens, light dances with the dark.
My Conscience, transmogrified. Truth is leaving its mark.

Actors step with intent, and I see the revelation.
Their motions send spears into my imagination.
The audience watches in awe. They're spellbound.
As the story unfolds, I conclude without sound.

On stage, Something hides what I somehow can know.
Like a whisper in my ear, secrets are already told.
There's a clairevoyant truth behind the gaze of my eye.
The creator himself is showing me all that hides.

The stage becomes dim, the actors in place.
A dark, twisted tale. An ending I can taste.
Curtains fall as I reflect, to the cue of a song.
I see all the outcomes, Why can’t I be wrong?

In the glass that is empty, overflows divine might.
In the chasm of silence, where new stars may ignite.
The void holds a state of potential in every instance.
Its darkness is the proof of an infinite existence.

Energetic quantum fields, they hold a nothing that is all.
There's a pleromatic silence that is actually the call.
Entropy keeps all her secrets, only told in conscious waves,
As new patterns are stitched from the fabric of decay.

Potential, though unspoken, lives in every empty heart.
Divine purpose suspended between the light and dark.
Space and time twist as both the future and the past,
Silence holds the truth, stating all was made to last.

For the empty always morphs into limitless creation.
Hearts beat the rhythms of our quantum contemplation.
A paradox prevails as the chaos becomes the tamed.
It's converging particles that blend into a single wave.

The empty glass, a garden. Quantum seeds begin to sprout.
In this parodoxic realm, there's an inside to the out.
In spaces between seconds, whole realities are grown.
Each moment is a leaf upon the tree of what's unknown.

My psyche falls apart, but its progression makes me whole.
Where absence turns into a dark salvation for the soul.
By the frequency of binaural pulses altered, I'm entranced.
The infinite, just waiting, in a single random chance.

In the silence of the mind, potential calls without a sound.
We're adrift in nothingness, lost in all that we have found.
Yet the glass that is empty holds a truth beyond profound,
I'm as infinite as darkness, I am nothingness unbound.

And in the space of emptiness, as pure as it is wide,
Is the force of a divine potential hid in the sublime.
Both broken and the whole, we let go to be embraced,
By the empty glass, to be transmogrified by conscious space.


♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

Wind carries whispers arrayed,
But never is it screaming.
The wisp that calls, lives betrayed,
Unheard is its true meaning.

Bound to its fateful flowing forever.
Its flowing has never failed.
A sacred truth is buried within.
Within what? It never can tell.

Mountainous structures stand strong,
These relics are deemed eternal,
As time passes, the layers form masses.
They keep record of nature’s journal.

The bitter truth is etched in stone.
Carved deep in their being,
Yet tethered to fate, to constantly wait.
Cursed with never leaving.

Like the ocean’s mighty sway,
That never truly moves.
Seemingly more boundless than me,
It's built to traverse in set grooves.

Violent waves displaying a mask,
For It rises only to recoil.
An infinite realm of life contained,
To never feel the soil.

The sun will rise, set, then rise.
A fate with no fate at all.
It treads a path to live and last,
It will not and can never fall.

It soars above, an ode freedom,
Yet a slave to this deception,
For in its path, it’s truly shackled,
To this common misconception.

The grand clock's, a steady unwinding,
That's never completely unwound.
Delaying or pausing is not an option,
Losing every minute it passes.

The hands of time that hold the scroll,
Unallowed to write its own plot,
Emotions within its constant tick tock,
Expressing a purpose that's wrought.

As metaphysical body's walk.
They think, they feel, the react.
Emotions lay open, demand to be spoken,
As our minds expand to retract.

My conscious holds a truth, untrue.
For a lie is so deeply instilled.
We breathe to consume, from cradle to tomb,
In this cage that we've named "Free Will."

My frame is decaying, even faster when I stand.
A house, and I’m haunted, on hope’s burial land.
My windows, hollowed eyes that do nothing but stare,
At a world that shunned one with a life meant to bare.

These floorboards that shriek, are like my mournful cries,
As serpent-like phantoms shed skin and pass by.
Warm words that were etched in the walls are now cold,
Just echoes of a story that will never be told.

The clocks restless ticking, its echoes, they scream.
If only to remind me that I’ve shattered, like dreams.
My will to live was buried long ago under a promise.
These cobwebs were spun, only to trap any solace.

-“Oh, cursed soul,” a ghost haunts as I weep,
“Do you feel my icy grip as you’re failing to sleep?

I’ve watched as you wander these fated terrains.
I have hollowed your heart; I will empty your veins.”

- “Forget now, the warmth that ignited your soul.
What you thought you could hold; I have made to turn cold.”

- These words no one hears, they disturb my fraught mind.
As my black stricken eyes pierce the void till I’m blind.

- “Awaken, child unwanted!” he pleads through the dust.
“Once I’m fed from your essence, you will finally rust.”

- Those words make a promise, my hopeless future forms.
Reassurance that the curse set for me has been born.

There’s a cold empty room, where my hopes should reside.
Shattered mirrors hold proof, that my dreams have since died.
A vibrant tapestry now sways, ripped in the wind,
Whispering of lost motives to a life that wants to end.

The doors are creaking open, letting in all I fear.
My tormented nightmares are all that is clear.
In every shadowed corner my demons reside.
If only to remind me, I’m imprisoned here inside.

To be as The Moth, born to the dark.
A fleeting fragment, a flickering spark.
To live life alone and die by the flame.
To be its own shadow. To not have a name.

Guided by stars too distant to hold.
To exist as a soul, that exists all alone.
To run into hiding by dawn’s first light.
To be haunted by, and to haunt all in sight.

Each light forms a lust that burns like a vow.
A promise of warmth that its fate won’t allow.
With wings, so fragile, that are pinned to this fate,
Its destiny cursed like sins born into saints.

Not resting at night, nor waking in peace.
For the pulse of the glow, we know, doesn’t cease.
To be called to the light as it paints life black.
To be deemed punishable before any ill act.

Yet The Moth questions nothing, asks nothing in return.
Never questions its darkness, or why the light burns.
A creature that lives in desperation of the night.
A creature that dies by desperation for the light.

Its symbolism, carved in my endless pursuit.
My shape stitched into the seams of The Moth's truth.
A life chasing embers no matter fate’s cost.
To be as The Moth, to find only what's lost.

Just like The Moth, I was born to the dark.
A fragmented soul with a flickering spark.
To live life alone and die by the flame.
To be my own shadow. To forget my own name.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

She came to me, with a vial of dust.
A means of a healing, the taste was like rust.
Her wings, her secret. Her halo gave no light,
As my desperate song found her ears in the night.

I knew what she offered. I knew the whole game.
And yet, I moved forward—a moth to a flame.
Her vial sparked flares that pierced through the black.
I knew in that moment; I’d never look back.

An ember lit the dust, its smoke filled my being—
An offering to the soul, to keep it from leaving.
Each grain was a vow. Each breath was a sin.
Yet a life that laid to end, now stood to begin.

But when the dawn broke, she was no longer there.
Just poison on my breath and dust in the air.
I did find the vial, but no other trace.
Just a void in the air and a numb, rusty taste.

I walk the dark path. Her whispers, my guide.
Chasing silence, so me and my demons can hide.
She gave me the calm in a handful of ash.
For once, I have laid down the guilt of my crash.

I'm addicted. I still sing that desperate song.
Here to stay, where I may, or I may not belong.
A forbidden solace, that keeps me in the calm.
My shadow that still tries to pull me along.

I remain tormented, so this dust stays near.
Angelic in essence, how it banishes fear.
This angel didn’t save me. For this, I have sight.
But gave me the will to outlast one more night.

By day, perceived evil. By night, purely good.
Should I alter my state? For a will to live, I could.
Might someone judge me? Who’s to say it's not right?
To choose life one more time and keep carving out light.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦