Pull your blanket above your head at night

and you might feel comfort in the dark.

-

I behold the abyss and am calmed.

-

The darkness ironically scares you,

you cannot help but think of the creatures.

-

I have walked with the Devil and was not alarmed.

-

Blood rushes to your head, you fear

what may come next and panic.

-

I see black only because I close my eyes

and welcome death.

-

You wonder why you get nothing you’ve asked for.

-

I wake up and wonder why I didn’t pass in the night,

allowing someone more suitable to be here.

-

You regard me with disfavor and hatred.

-

I barely glance at you to save what pity I have left.

-

You gaze into the darkness,

-

I Return The Stare.

Allow me to speak

Through broken teeth,

Allow me to claw

Through my broken jaw.

-

My grievous fortitude

Denies my attitude

Rejects my failures

And is my Interlude.

-

I pray to Him, my God,

and wish you here,

I ask Him every night,

But He is never there.

-

My soul is lost

In this devil’s eyes

My love for this,

with such heat, makes the seas rise.

-

I am strangled frequently

By the intestines of my intentions

My love for this melody

Was my intervention

-

My quick submission

Of life for this

was of my own volition

and love for this.

Sorrow sweeps

And sorrow swoons

Sorrow decays

the summer blooms,

Love corrupts

Love purrifies

Love lights up

Until you die

Sorrow strikes

Swing trapezes high,

Sorrow croons

Tears pierce the eye,

Love rots slowly,

Like a corpse,

Love takes no prisoners,

Love shows no remorse.

There is a dark musk in the air,

the breeze in my lungs explode with despair,

a remark of my tribulation,

my forlorn, eternal damnation,

the burden of my affliction,

my relinquish, my submission,

my loss, my plague,

this abandonment, vague.

-

The hour approaches where I renounce histrionics,

this ridiculous existence, shallow and ironic,

-

as I slash through these weeds,

I become ever weary,

trying to grow soon-to-bloom seeds,

I can’t conceive clearly,

what I had set out to do first,

yet I encounter pain, and wish for rebirth.

-

I look upon obscurely scribed lines

and take them as commands

and as I gaze up

I realize I have failed to meet their demands.

-

the blood on my hands, and in my thoughts,

the bodies in my mind, turn to be naught

to  frequently miscarry and meet with disaster,

just to be in the shadow of another caster,

makes one wish for eternal rest faster.

-

a prisoner an only go so long,

before hating his cell,

ask for another,

and hate the most recent still.

-

yet I yearn, yet I crave

for the love of another and better days

-

all the while, forsaken stress

consumes me blind

how can it be possible

when I again fail to find

that which I seek, ever so

and continue to be, ever alone,

although those who speak of which they know nothing of

will one day find themselves answering above,

-

I find myself fallen and broken

with no trace I had slipped

no one to me my answer spoken

without as much as a quip

so shall it be, so shall it stay,

I will arbitrarily search for the light of day,

i honor perseverance, and my vigil stays,

As I seek, need and want, the light of day.

The figure, old and decrepit,

lies in a silent tomb of regret,

he ponders his life and where

it has betray him with longing stare,

he slowly rocks to-and-fro

and yet he longs for one love so,

that he cries himself to sleep at night,

seeking some sort of holy plight

to fill his violent life with but one light.

-

he wishes for dreams sweet,

but his requests betray him,

he remembers bloodstained sand at his feet,

and the point at which men’s screams sustained him.

He remembers a thirst for death,

an unquenchable bloodlust.

-

He remembers bodies

covered in entrails and dust,

He sits and thinks though,

of only one retained image,

the figure of a child,

it was a haunting vision.

-

a stray round caught a woman’s throat,

her child covered in the blood that spared her coat,

He remembered this child,

that had watched his mother die,

a boy no more than fifteen,

didn’t so much as flinch or cry.

-

But what held him still,

because death was dealt before,

was the look in the boy’s eyes.

-

This look was hatred for everything that lived

because this woman had not,

this was his terrible decision,

causing awfulness and derision.

-

Within all men with emotion,

when anger’s strength is that of the oceans,

this warrior to-be, a devil’s scorn,

now has nothing, baptized in blood,

the man remembers his son, his brood,

as he was warborn.

She sits, and she’s pale and cadaverous,

her black hair, short to her chin, the dye in her skin,

the corpselike designs deify her to me,

and she is marvelous.

-

A snakebite in her voluptuous blackened painted lips

eagers me to receive a curious kiss

upon my own who so long for,

the taste of her, like nothing before.

-

The gorgeous permanent stains of ink

upon her *****, thighs, arms, and calves,

exemplify her smooth pearl-white skin

her delicate tattooed knuckles and hands,

could now easily tear me in half.

-

As i try to look away

from that teasing, black lingerie,

she turns and looks with pale blue eyes,

the most wonderful I have ever seen,

so far into my soul she delves that I admit,

I am but a lowly, mortal being.

-

This Goddess of death, this Massacre Angel

what some call not a treasure,

she is in all my nightmarish dreams,

and I always owe her the pleasure.

-

I am a slave to her eyes,

that so easily peer through me,

it is not that I tread not, or wear disguise,

but the answer always eludes me.

-

Though she is my unholy holiness that

grants me dark in wretched light,

one day I shall pass and our spirits

will lay together for an eternity of

a macabre romantic night.

I am crucified,

My own screams awake me, yet,

I feel no pain now.