In a winding, twisted fate,
The Brothel, I’ve tried to Escape,
The sickening sounds of lips being ******,
The horrid sounds of those being ******,
The slaps of flesh o’er again,
My mind, I cannot now defend,
I hate every minute, every tick,
This endless clock makes me sick,
I dream of sleep that won’t ever come,
I dream of the day I can run,
Escape, Escape, Escape,
I’ll carve it in myself, it should be my name,
I’ve been mislead, indeed, I’ve been stolen,
But these shallow romances so repulsively sodden,
Have left thoughts so in mind forsaken,
Of each *** and race, lifelessly forbidden
The thought of leaving,
This **** hotel is quite deceiving,
I think of how it became
Synonymous in its name,
With “love" and a quenched thirst
Of our lust and ****** rebirth,
For this menagerie of psychopathy
Is the disease among society,
Eyes that I no longer look into as I speak
Gaze into mine as they endeavor to seek
My soul, laughable, they will not find,
To their credit, it’s long since died,
This wretched place holds me with no interest,
And of how I came about, to be honest
I’ve no recollection.
No recognition
Of anything here, nothing is alive,
All that come, just for pleasure strive,
Empty inside and dying within,
I must Escape this place of boundless ruin.

Inside us all, we wish for The One that we have
Ideas of falling endlessly down a blue tinted sky with. In a
Myriad of a countless mind, perfection lies dormant inside.
Vile…the horrors of loneliness in time, and
All lands and waters cannot hold its meaning.
And if meandering glances could speak,
Of Antioch and withered Troy,
My sweet, fabled Helen would be my goddess.
The love I killed without realization…
Remaining requiem lead to devastation,
I solemnly ridicule myself over again,
And riposte, is still there paradise in Eden?
Incredulous, it happens that I know life will not
Pass by my eyes, Sirens will not command their rot,
I live now until entombed, the morgue has never scared me,
But bereft of her, I am a hollow shell that suffers cruelly.

The time in which we gathered together,
Lost in our arms and eyes,
Correctly begins with "Once upon a time..."
And does now beguile my sunrise.
-
A wasteland is wont for many explorers,
In its greed though, it keeps them forever,
But the paradise I found with you
Would light my every endeavor.
-
Were each freckle a map of stars upon,
The shining blue sky this morn,
They"d allow me to navigate your sea of soft skin,
And mend a heart, forlorn.
-
An anchor that kept my vessel afloat
While Poseidon's depression near' took me with him,
I held the key to your heart, fabled Atlantis,
In love as I could ever have been, by an Angel, smitten.
-
The tender kashmir lips,
That promised and fulfilled me to sleep,
Have dispersed long ago,
And have tempted me to weep.
-
Complex reflections of my own inner self,
Revealed the catastrophe in full,
Though you had my heart for yourself,
I couldn't find where it leisurely lulled.
-
Young and daft, I took my own risks,
Risks that transformed into sorrow,
Shielded at last, that upon my cask'
Shall be writ' "perhaps joy comes on the morrow"
-
The serene, subcontious Siren
Knows not even of her own beauty,
With eyes that could stop time and planes
Of space, she can, so truly.
-
I beg to be rid of the memories,
I ask for constant euthanasia,
I consume to forget entirely
And regret my own mistakes here.

I rested my elbow upon my desk,
Thinking of times my mind could caress,
I came up with naught, and was impressed
With all the thoughts I could detest,
I sat and swept throughout my mind,
With what I could eventually find,
In peace, in life, in hatred, in kind,
And I fell through the cracks of spiteful time.
I hated how we spent time being oblivious and lolling,
This kept me forever,
And The Rain Kept Falling.
-
She walked along a road with bare feet,
Hoping some help there she would meet,
She evaded the devil in the house she escaped,
Her torso was lacerated, knees were scraped,
She was forced to perform for this man of hate,
He watched as he forced her to *******,
He ***** her, over, again and again,
She cried for help, to break free of his sins,
She wished for death but it wouldn't come,
She wished for just one chance to run,
Now being chased like a prisoner of old,
He would find and punish her for being so bold,
Her captor, with vigor, saught to mutilate,
this "little *****" for being late,
Upon finding the cell at where she was chained
Vacant, he saught to force the change,
He endeavored to find her with malicious will,
In vain hope, she hoped the police would ****
This ******* who had tied her up
And repeatedly forced her to sup
Upon the remains of his countless others,
That he had captured and forced on eachother,
She was found three days later with a bullet in her head,
And carved in her torso "the ***** is dead",
The syndrome, the sickness is all but enthralling,
She looked for hope but
The Rain Kept Falling.
-
Dismal, he sat and contemplated,
The way his life had reverberated,
He thought of the children his wife took from him,
She lied to her husband and put lust above him,
He was the best father that anyone could tell,
He loved his children, would do anything for them.
But because his wife had stolen their lives,
He couldn't sleep at all, but cried,
She escaped justice by pleading insanity,
She bragged of it later, bathing in vanity,
He decided that with nothing left,
To live for, except the greed for death,
That he would find and take her soul,
Send her to Hell and then control,
Every aspect of his suicide,
And stop her, being "sanctified",
He crept at night to her abode,
And then proceeded to invade her home,
He began by gagging her and tying her to posts,
Then pulling each extremity until, severed from host,
He ripped her apart for what she stole,
Then slit her throat to watch the flow,
Until the last bit of red-dripping evil,
Exited her body while she shook unstable,
Blank, his face, held no emotion,
But to this malice, he held devotion,
He had hoped this unholy retribution
Would spare his tears and be solution,
Alas, he was wrong, nothing was solved,
His children were still dead, rotting, embalmed,
Some nights he could hear his children calling,
He then took his life.
And The Rain Kept Falling.
-
This endless, boundless, ocean of rain,
The mist it created, like blood and feigned,
The recreation of hope and joy,
Rather, it only increased in ploy,
It never ended and still rains today,
Think of this while you laugh and play,
We live for no reason and surely die,
You will never leave alive,
For reasons unsure, we keep on stalling,
And ignore the fact
That The Rain Keeps Falling.

Could I provide a stolen glance,
That would glisten off my heart,
At where I would see you in a trance,
At where my mind could fall apart.
-
You being a catalyst to the fire,
The arsonist behind my demise,
The smoke takes my thoughts ever higher,
And the flutter in my chest does rise.
-
I see you in dreamlands wandering solemn,
Betwixt a lake and a great etched stone,
You look of tales told to the fallen,
And I wonder why you are there alone.
-
Echoes of the marvelous melody,
Worth dying for so many times over,
Reverberate in the cavity,
That my chest does now dwell and cover.
-
There is nothing left of this place,
You've forgotten everything in me,
But for you my endless mind still does chase,
I wish for what could be.
-
I seek no complaint, rather I should say,
That everything may be as well as it lay
Ambiguous love and hopes in the day,
Will shatter against the stones of the bay.

Whispers are voices of solemn eyes,
They express the deepest thoughts,
Whether to onself or to another,
They express everything we are inside.
Whispers are what we feel within,
They are malicious, alarming, and suicide,
Also, they hold want, desire, and dreams,
And especially what lies therein.
Whispers themselves are secrets
Told in confidence to none,
Secrets are a paradox,
For their label, a helix of lies.
To whisper a love is to hope they hear,
However it may be heard,
Through grapevine or messenger,
Or a mutual friend’s word to steer.
To whisper your hate under muttered breath
Is to wish upon malevolence
To find the target yet soon,
And to finally quell your stifled chest.
To whisper of sadness
Is the vain thought of peace,
The endless cycle of solipsism,
Until your life does cease.

I find questions to the answers damning;
They quote the darkest volumes,
And speak in whispered tones
That haunt my mind with lemmings.
Thrilling chills reverberate
Throughout my spine, intoxicating
The superfluous influx of aeon.
In Elysium I await.
Forgotten songbirds’ melodies
Are ripe within their own stages,
However, the message behind their incantations,
Mocks the frigid winds of change.
Apologetic reverences deny the peaceful hum
Of every ***** and flute of desire
And of all the lyres to be strummed.
Stumbling upon a corpse of old,
Necrosis doth eat away,
Putridity and phobia have at last been lead astray,
Maggots upon maggots, an **** of disease,
Now struggle for control here,
In the epitome of our dying age.
The eyes that once saw hope,
And the heart that once felt love,
Our absentee in place of rot,
And are swapped with rustic carrion.
The dismal breeze that flow
Swiftly under the crest of raven-wing,
Solidify bones as well as the toxins that
Cryptically burn and sting.
A creation of mass panic, euphoria
Are bound to allow riot’s treason,
A repentance of nostalgia
For uncountable reasons.
Alas, we have but come close enough to success,
To amount in a drowning of failure,
To kiss the shores of dreams come true,
And to be denied of those dreams’ savior.