Dwell furtively my children. Escape into a world of transfiguration; permutation from your previous self.
Space rules over time, but until you can escape the hold of time's callous embrace, you are forever subjected to it. Primitive minds cannot look beyond what they cannot see, but only visit in dreams, or surmise a controversial experience of the matter. Keep your eyes upon the firmament of your sanity and let not the intangible become the manifested.

Grab hold of your hate, your love, your loneliness, and your emptiness. Solidify it into a weapon that knows no bounds. This shall be your "space".

But never forget, stand firm in your hate, breath in your loneliness, and embrace your love and dive into the plane of your new metamorphosis. Let departure be the beginning of a long sought out change. Departure equals motivation. Departure equals push. The incentive that proves that I am still here. And that our works is far from apex of our existence.

I'am still here, humans.
I'am still here, Angels.
I' am still here, demons.


I'am still here, Joshua.
I never left.

If you would allow me, I would like to invite you into a world that I'm in, and then into a world where I would like to be in. The surplus of this thing called madness has overwhelmed me so. It has etched it's presence within the peripherals of my vision and the groundings of the world around me. I'm doing my best to refrain from the usual written prolix; my most verbose dialect that seem even ambiguous to those of a higher stature. I want you all to comprehend and peradventure shed a scintilla of empathy; the bedlam that is my mind keeps attracting the mad and the sleeplessness.

The monotony of repetition and the lonely nights of nostalgia. In unison, the Asylum within the corridors of mind houses such emotional consequences and dares to formulate an ominous construct; derived by the copious amount of my many iniquities. I am never at peace.

Give me a silent "dark" that coincides a placid slumber. Let me drift within the winds of a comatose state and the ringing of the Sandman within my ear; the melodies of sleep produced by nothingness. I seek such a slumber that transcends that of delving into the subconscious of the brain, but instead the subconscious to reach inside it's own subconscious. Like a dream within dream, but with no dream.

How absurd.

My fiery passion burns for the birds of the sky.
The embracement of men,
and the sensation to fly.

Together we were such happy delights,
the amalgamation of our vows never took flight.
Our servitude for our impending plight,
and thus we were left here at the shore to die.

My thoughts were for you alone, my dear.
But as time traded us off,
we could have never see things clear.

Peradventure, the moon's gaze stares coldly upon me?
Certainly it's frozen tongue has melted you away with his
natural art of feng shui?

A mindless sensation indulged with pride and hatred.
I will strike down the moon and take back what's mine,
and as I did so, it was you who told me the mountain to climb.

And I did.
For you.

There was where I met my end,
a demon manifesting causing myself to bend.
A demolition of sorts mistreated by all of it's cohorts.
I prayed to the gods to see for my redemption,
but all I saw was his deception.

Granted was to me the power of the fire that rests in many.
Pride, justice, and the right of good will be their works,
fear is uncanny.

My light will forever scorch those in darkness.
Yet in this prison I will forever be,
never touch her skin for all eternity.

Foolish Iniquity ensued by sensation,
all to which led to such a foreboding culmination.
And what was the interpretation?
The evaluation of pure desolation derived from wickedness,
and destruction caused by commotion produced by the most riveting of distortions.

Her visage was more than what my aim wanted.
However, when she took me in,
I was more than just delighted.

Had she not known that I was peasant compared to her royalty?
Yet, my loyalty far surpassed our incongruity.
But my days had never left without a urge of urgency.

And for that, scrutiny had to take place.
And when I noticed the connection to the King,
my words I began to be misplaced.

Her heart chasing down the stairs of emotion.
Commotion awaiting at daybreak.
Her heart is still mine, to date.

The king's tyranny fell alongside the shores of his own
consequence; decadence.
And thus, the many people were saved
and no one ever complained.

For it wasn't the relationship that was aimed,
it was for the timely-tamed.

My reward was given for my works,
And a stab to the heart around lurked.

And subjected I was to my own powerlessness,
All because of my decadence.

In pain I awaited for my death,
But to no avail.
Was I ever so frail to even care?

I was granted another chance to redeem myself.
My heart so gracefully allocated to the night.
A chance to shed light to those within the purest of darkness.
My actions were not for naught, forever in my might.

They were all freed by me,
Yet, imprisoned I will forever be.
To show the way, if need be.

Distorted confirmation of self arrogance. Primitive tactics to reserve what no longer appears relevant. Hollow-filled apertures that indulges nothing but your own fatuity. But can you see through such an bombastic act? Of course you can't. The ground in which you stand upon is all you need to acknowledge. What you see is what was told to you and like a dog, an animal; you feed upon it. However, I have good news for you. You don't have to fret for I will be the one to protect you. I shall be the reassurance of your ignorance and shroud you with your own transient state of victory. Don't you see? Everything's going to be alright. I will bifurcate the tension and allow your very corridors to suffocate you.

This my friend is salvation. Let the wave's intangible force impale your breath. Let it slither through your sinews and let your veins corrode under the pressure of silence. Permit them, as if you had any choice to begin with; to be transformed into stone and eradicated into dust. My return? Oh, my return is imminent. The eventuality that is much more evident than the eventuality of eternal sleep to a human. So sit in the empty chair of Kings and make peace with the vanishing. Make it your throne and savor your trophies, your victories, and superiority. And vanish peacefully within the cool and gentle breeze of illusion.

Here he comes with head held up high,
His hues locked on my form, intensified.
I must show him my respect, because my detest, he should not detect.
And to detect such will only reflect egregious dialect.
He owns the crown of Ravens on his head.
And now that he has returned, I will forever drink out of the cup of lead.
What am I, if not dust?
And why should I listen to you if you are not the just, but instead; the corrupt?

Please, just shut the **** up.

Your insessant irrelevant words mean nothing to me, do you understand?
And thus, you've become nothing more than just shell of your original self.
..how bland.

Why must I prove myself to the hearts of men, when I already proved myself to the hearts of earth and sky?
Must you take your deeds to the sky and leave me here to die?
Tearing my own skin, I have been; to appease those who are nothing more than mere distortions.
The one with the crown of Ravens, when will you come and make amends?
Am I not sufficient enough to bend?

I know the result to such a bond.
An angel and a human...never to abscond.

Here, take this with your food.
You inevitable helpless fool.
A puppet used among the shores of Hell.
You must listen to the bells that will never tells, or yells.
Listen, You stupid tool!

There's a princess, you see.
Dressed in the moon and covered in pearls, galore!
But sad, she is. Far from bliss.
For she has never had a real kiss.

Run with me. I'll make sure we'll stay out of sight and out of mind.
Never to be pestered  by our own inferior kind.
My abominable secret of tricks and treats.
Wrap me in the shroud of my own delightful defeats.
A puppet to thee.

Because a puppet I will forever be.
A snake to my heel.
Always to hear and feel.
And likewise, my heel to ****.

Oh faceless princess of my darkest dreams.
Is this all my humanity can bare?
Perhaps not. My brightest Nightmare.

Oh, heartless queen, how long must you torment me, so?
Bury myself six feet down below?

Here stranger, I give you my pen.
Use it as you see fit.

I don't mean to be mean, but is it lit?Your flame, I mean?
Because mine is not.
My candle is in many knots.
Lots and lots of convoluted and intricate knots.

Care to take a whack at them?
You're better off holding your breath and counting to ten, my friend.
Over and over, again.

Now please, if my princess won't return to me by ten o'clock,
Show me the way to the nearest glock.

Suicide? Never!
Maybe just sleep. Forever.

Efface the corridors of my mind, they no longer matter to my hands. My hands aren't in the reflection of my eyes, anymore. The ripplets of amalgamated rigmarole has left me disconnected from my own solace. (The truth of the matter is, I detest you all)

Such a fiery passion filled with such repugnant result that only ensues regicide. Don't you see? You aren't the same as when I opened the door to Eden. Pusillanimous flowers froze under your cold dexterity and callous maneuvers as I tried, as an denizen of the air; in giving you fire. My animosity-indulged blood feel upon everything still. (Poor benevolent garden became the stage for fire and brimstone! Burn it all)

The severance between rhetorician and denizen is the best that I can do to impart my desperation. God, what must I do to show the waters and the earths of my pain? Yet, I'm overlooked. (Yes, you are overlooked. Taken for granted). The black hiding under my nails is but testimony of how blood can transmutate to dirt. (You're too nice and stupid. I detest them all) Am I to believe that time along with my memories are my enemy? Then what of my sins and their justifications? What the hell must I do?! (Envy, Envy, Envy!) Why must I insist in speaking when those who must listen choose to turn their heads and ear like imbeciles to the slaughter? (Let them ******* die! why open your mouth, you idiot?) Scrupulous actions reflect my misery that can only explained through the pen.

(Why must you waste your time? You were born alone, so die alone. Let the sky scream your name as the earth swallows your very existance and time effaces you from the memories of the inhabitants of the world. May all take a drink of the child's corrosive life and watch them atrophy and burn into nothingness)