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Sep 2014 · 752
Day zero-zero
Leafar Mamede Sep 2014
I just put out a cigar
I grab a pen and
start writing words and
I'm listening to a song and
I'm sitting at my desk but
I'm not here and I don't
know where I am. My mind
                               has drifted and this pen
                        gained life of some sort.
                                                                   Brilliant!
                                             Just brilliant. I feel light and
              I feel some sort of gravity in the tip of my fingers. I'm not in control but I'm in control.
                                                                  Words are spilled and
                                                                  thoughts are unscrambled
                                                                  and apparent random phrases
                                                                  are made and I make a full stop.

I read it,



I think it's a *******,
But am I right?
I just don't care and keep writing words and I'm still listening to a song and I'm lying down in a warm beach with dark waters and glass instead of sand and I see the moon, so big and so bright, as I look up and I saw only a ceiling, so big and so bright as the moon, and tears running down the walls and the beat of the song continues and the pen writes at it's own rythm, faster and faster as the song moves on and as the world moves on. Wars are made and wars are ended, revolutions are made and revolutions are ended, empires rise and empires fall, words are chosen and words are discarded, but what makes it art?
HONESTY.


If I said everything
what I think about
every second,
People would think
that I'm insane.
Sep 2014 · 461
Day Zero
Leafar Mamede Sep 2014
Now
you see me

now you see me
and
my heart
and mind

now you
hear the sound

the sound
of my pulsating heart

while art
is being made
in a drowned
reality

while grenades
of liberality
and of triviality
and of unreality
and mortality
are being made

sanatorium sings
and you see me

as the truth of
reality is
smooth and cruel
let's say
as a poet
or
as a ghoul
on church school

as the players plays
as the thinkers think
as the rulers rule
as the free free

i just light
another cigar

But the right
are still right
Mar 2014 · 940
Overwhelmed
Leafar Mamede Mar 2014
We all want something
We all crave something
We all lust for something
We all believe that when
We get “that”:
We will be happy

But the truth is: You will get “that” and
You will want something else
You will crave something else
You will lust for something else
Thus you'll never be truly “happy”

So, live day by day
Moment by moment
enjoy the ride of life

Fear, frustration, dissatisfaction
Will end

Accept that you'll never be truly “happy”
and all that remains it's actually the thing
We all crave for.
Mar 2014 · 428
Day Zero-Zero
Leafar Mamede Mar 2014
I just put out a cigar.
I grab a pen and
start writing words and
I'm listening to a song and
I'm sitting at my desk but
I'm not here and I don't
know where I am. My mind
                     has drifted and this pen
                  gained life of some sort.
                                                        Brilliant!
                                  Just brilliant. I feel light
and I feel some sort of gravity in the tip of my fingers. I'm not in control
but I am in control.
                                 Words are spilled and
                                thoughts are unscrambled
                              and apparent random phrases
                            are made and I make a full stop.

I read it,


I think it's a *******,
But am I right?
I just don't care and keep writing words and I'm still listening to a song and I'm lying down in a warm beach with dark waters and glass instead of sand and I see the moon, so big and so bright, as I look up and I saw only a ceiling, so big and so bright as the moon and tears running down the walls and the beat of the song continues and the pen writes at it's rythm, faster and faster as the song moves on and as the world moves on.

Wars are made and wars are ended,
revolutions are made and revolutions are ended,
empires rise and empires fall,
words are chosen and words are discarded,
but what makes it art? Honesty.

     If I said everything
     what I think about
     every second,
     People would think
     that I'm insane.
Nov 2013 · 907
Scent of the way
Leafar Mamede Nov 2013
To do magic I’ve to believe in magic
Even knowing that’s not real
This Inconsistency deceive is tragic
Is it real? Is it surreal?  But
The mask blurs my vision
Since I get up until I lay down to sleep
I can’t find the appeal
It’s an incision that will never heal
And, oh yes, it is deep and
It’s hard to keep but harder to tell
So, I live breath by breath
In an almost constant, state of restless
The air I breed makes a dance of death
Great and honest for my eyes to see
Since I get up until I lay down to sleep
I want, and I can, but I won’t?
Freedom costs,
The weight weights,
A man gasps
And I? I just breed
With an heavyweight core
To whom I want to play a trick
To untangle myself from this burden
Cause if I wasn’t I
Maybe he wouldn’t write
Or maybe he wouldn’t  be alive
If I wasn’t I
I wouldn’t be me
It’s actually funny how the universe works
The randomness or not
The most minuscule single variation
Could affect everything or nothing
Could mean the difference between life and death
Between me, he, or you.
Magic could even exist!
Nov 2013 · 733
The beauty of dionysus
Leafar Mamede Nov 2013
I randomly exist to be
to touch the spectrum in braille
like a mad alchemist who see
through the veil
It is both a blessing and a curse
to see the world with my own eyes
makes everything seems like a rehearse
everyone tries and everyone dies
but what I do, is not a science
To live is an art
'cause if we really live
everything we do is a piece of art
even a gone passion in an artificial world
or artists with eyes of dead artists
all whirled up in fear
as instead of using it as a premiere
chance to give the eye inside
a chance to see through the veil
to be untied and alive
Nov 2013 · 2.3k
The Alps of Demise
Leafar Mamede Nov 2013
On the top of rationality
Remains  an abyss to insanity
That I persist to climb
Until I reach my prime
Until I grasp all the rains in my veins
Until I rein the reins
As I contemplate all the plains
Of grayish fate, thru trees of clocks
Leaves of wish and apples of Eve
Thru rocks weightless as chants
And thru ants and doves verging chess
Hazy mortals with gloves of hate
Lazy and crazy mortals,
In such rare lands of bliss,
Obliterating the glow...
**So, I knead the canvas with my bare hands
And threw myself into the abyss.
Sep 2012 · 1.0k
(no title)
Leafar Mamede Sep 2012
The world can be dark, but
where is darkness, there's also light
The world can be harsh, but
where is cruelty, there's also exquisitness
where is selfishness, there's also kindness
where is evilness, there's also virtuous and moral goodness
There's night and day
Death and Birth
Walls that rise and walls that fall
Capitalists and anarchists
Empires of slavery and places of Love
Scientists and poets
and scientists of poetry
and poets of science
There's the Yin and the Yang
There's the black and the white and also the grey
There are demons and angels
In this ball
An eternal dance inside of us all
Sep 2012 · 449
I don't speak english
Leafar Mamede Sep 2012
I want to grow back younger

to feel free once again

to scream

naively with no hunger

but the whole thing is nothing but a dream

from i keep awakening ´

wrapped in chains

inside my brain
May 2012 · 769
Sonos
Leafar Mamede May 2012
I lay down and I sink in bed
As the impression of departure of an airplane
That leaves the heart and guts behind, and body ahead
As I were in an endless looping of a rollercoaster but soar
Pushing all my blood to my core in vain
My epicenter of gravity increases  
Sinking me more, my eyelids are heavy
And the strength to keep them open decreases,
I’m melting, I’m dipping, I’m merging, and I’m heavy
My sheets are my skin, (my skins!)
No heart, no guts, no body, only black
…and so the dream begins
May 2012 · 1.4k
Fraction: 1/0
Leafar Mamede May 2012
The not me is blind
He can’t see past the illiteracy swamp
The not me is deaf
He can’t ear harmony in humankind
The not me is dumb
He oppresses and repress
The not me has no smell
He bargain and sell and swell
The not me has his hands clasped and tied
He’s guide to be a guileless tool
The not me are gray
They’re simply fuel
Dead corpses to play

Deny thyself
Untangle your eyes
Cease to be a machine
And become the self
I mean, let go of
Prejudice and conventions
And dogmas of society
Let yourself be carried by the self
Let go of thy dimension
Stable and confortable
Those made up dreams
Provide sense to existence

The self lives
Sees past unreal reality
Ears past instilled dreams
Lastly tastes the liberality
Lastly irradiates beams out
Of instilled tune
Lastly he flies from the cocoon
Leafar Mamede May 2012
I open an old photograph album
to remember those old memories
flipping through pages
and letting tears drop
reliving all my phases
“re-suffering” all my cages
looping and twisting and coiling
and curling and looping and twisting
and…Stop!

The picture-perfect now
of a mere line outlining past and future
The picture-perfect now is ours
a feature that lasts no more than mere hours
harvest and sow
we’ll never become a scripture
from shadow we come
and to shadow we go

there’s no constant in our self
to be Uno is a misconception
a persona is an inception itself
a delusion, an illusion
each life is fragmented
or it is uninhabited
each life is shattered
or it is scattered
each life is broken

my denial
my emptiness
hanging for the limbo trial
May 2012 · 674
.
Leafar Mamede May 2012
.
Dot
A black **dot

Outside the river
So trivial
So remote
So tiny
Swings
While I'm afloat
Grows
As I approach
Compose
While I broach
Into a dance of colors:
The gray so scarce
Alike this day
From dark red comes
A reminder that has bled
And the several shades of yellow
From below to the vast blue
My mellow fellow
Adieu
May 2012 · 760
Le poison de la vie
Leafar Mamede May 2012
A simple ray of sunlight spread by time
Dodging through the white clouds;
The simple crusade that a breeze
Causes on the white clouds
Make me smile.

For a while I was hostile
But the artless white clouds,
As white as white can be,
Make me smile.

Drinking sensations and drawing vibrations,
Swallowing them as a death star
To the point it befits bizarre
To the point it suits dark

To live is to suffer
To get rougher and tougher
To live is to sin
To discern I’ve been
Witnessing for an exemption of redemption

In this nontoxic home
I can breathe for a while,
I let sensations and vibrations roam,
I write. I smile.

In this nontoxic home
I can see the artless white clouds,
As white as white can be,
I dream.  I smile.

Oh, this nontoxic home
Make me smile,
Make me live.

While I write the dark folds
And the smile unfolds
Existence is not a decoy
To live is moreover to enjoy
May 2012 · 685
not one
Leafar Mamede May 2012
I hear my own words
echo in my mind
it's my inner self
so blind
can I...
live with my inner self?
survive?
(I'm nor in peace or at war
I'm not covered with needles,
or belong to the beadles.)

so, i guess i could
(the fun)
(the insanity)

but i won't
I'm not one
Leafar Mamede Apr 2012
I
I juggle with shades and figures and also skulls
Vicious and virtuous
Sinister and righteous
Vile and saintly
And that goes on and on and on
Countless shades that conceal the sun and quaintly
Also the mournful moon withdrawn
Multitudinous figures who speak and screech
And conjure from the vessel adrift of humanity
Myriad skulls with freedom of speech
Or wouldn't they be inhumanity

There is insanity in my sanity

I like to be in the drift
To go with the flow
To be unattached of enlist
For lost causes and “shows”

There is insanity in my sanity!

I like to sail more than a smidgen
To grasp and see the proper bliss:
From fear comes religion
From insanity comes questionings, comes this

Oh, yes! There is insanity in my sanity!

II
I keep juggling with my depth and core
Hopping from one to another
Cautiously not to let any of them drop for
The stream of existence or it will be smothered
And I’ll lose my sense of course
Leading me towards my martyr
Wave by wave sinking my vital force
Until the border of overwhelming disorder
That is imminent but in slow-motion
For I’ve yet an entire ocean
To sail across before I diagnose if I’m:


The death of my hero
Or
The hero of my death
?

III*
Sound waves of a drifting symphony
Leads me to where the curious compass points
For I'm a sailor simply for another epiphany
And to inscribe the momentum with paints
Of memories of a posterior I
Ready to retry
Indeed I sail through an immaterial hour
For I'm a sailor until the idyllic harbor
That arises in the unending horizon
Apr 2012 · 453
I - - - but
Leafar Mamede Apr 2012
I

sit, wait and see
put a mask and speak
around a round table drinking black tea
uncensored words I seek

but

there are clouds covering my far away mountains
I wish I had the strength to blow those clouds
to let sun shine on my far away mountains
I wish I had, on my own, the power of crowds.
Apr 2012 · 818
Knock, knock
Leafar Mamede Apr 2012
I enter my shell and close the door
No exchange of energy
No exchange of matter
Expertly self-search and lore
It’s a quarantined route
Gathering pieces that shatter
The outside is mute
The inside is deafening
Reckoning dilemmas
Disentangling dilemmas
Accepting dilemmas
I                    and                   I              and                  myself
All my selves
Reading books from my inner shelf
Words written with my ink
I blink                                       I blink                      and again I blink
I realize the wholly interlink
I sense the web of tears
I see the web of cheers
The web of regrets
Those past sweats
The now is past
There’s a fresh now
I smoke a cigarette
That's past and there's a new now
A present absent of digress
A present fueled by recognition
Recognition of a web which confess
That I am one
Revealing a tone of ambition
That I once swore I would roar for the soul
This is me opening the door
Apr 2012 · 736
The Tragedy Of Origin
Leafar Mamede Apr 2012
We born to live
But all we do is survive

We grow playing with dreams and hopes
In a beautiful and unknown world
But the more we grow the more we know
And that's the closest we get to dreams and hopes

The defaults of beauty shapes
We all learn like apes
But to see beyond aesthetics of guise
It takes more than a simple pair of blue eyes

There's a phony order
There's a deceiving system
All I want is a truthful disorder
All it takes is the apes to gain wisdom

We born to live
But all we do is survive**
Some arrive for thrive
and some arrive for strive...
Apr 2012 · 870
The Train
Leafar Mamede Apr 2012
Sitting in the cold metal bench
Shivering, I wait for the train
I watch people come, then blench
I hear some guy calling Jane
I see a face, a lost young face, crying
I listen to a mystical men playing violin
In the dark left corner of the station
Weeping a deep melody about lying
This...ah...sedation?
I... I watch,
I... I hear,
I see,
I listen but I've only been
Here for a fraction of a second...
(I reckon)

The train is coming
The ground is shaking
Please view me
Please dye my soul
I've no control
The answers? The questions!
The questions that lead to wandering
Pondering the suggestions of answers
Am I invisible?
A spectrum of light unseeable to human eye?
A slave of the soul?
What role?

Reset!

Set!

and go...

I'm suddenly in a train, no woe
Sitting in a warm bench
Snug and no pain
With no clot of revenge
Someone pulled the plug
I feel...disconnected of...??
Memories?
Reflections?
Wonders?
Brrrumm!!
Thunders in all directions
Ripped from above the numb
I've no control
Am I a slave of the soul?
A spectrum of light unseeable to human eye?
Invisible?
The train stops!
and the curtain drops.
Apr 2012 · 634
My Sonnet
Leafar Mamede Apr 2012
Getting deeper and deeper
Almost near the reaper, I write:
Getting darker and darker
I notice how brighter is the light
Reaching the bottom of this bliss
Like a bomb tearing everything apart of my sight
Drinking from the fountain of my wisdom
Made me feel like jumping off a moutain, so slight
While peering into the abyss
I didn't even thought of daring
For how deeper and darker it was
Past that, to dare, it's like a soul kiss
I might take a pause, get caught in the bay of reason
Until my body appears on shore, next to the pier of treason
Mar 2012 · 401
?
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
?
Abstract disorder
                                Filled with empty air.
                                               King, humanity, there's no order;
        Ashes of Queens, it's not fair.
                                                    Magic is a               faithless joke.
    For the free spirits there's no hope,
                                          We all know how they will end.
                 Creative and chaotic minds
                                 Who design the disorder folds.
                                                   Surprise!!               Magic is what it holds.
Mar 2012 · 1.0k
Unrest
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
To remember the thrill is to feel,
to sense that is preserved in the intellect.
To create the emotion is to feel,
to know that you can counterfit, even if it is sincere.
To live the sentiment is to feel,
to relish being alive.

The ceaseless search
for something unknown;
The reaction of rationalization
before the event;
The result of intellectualization
is mental mill.

Yearning for old times
'causes boredom.
Anguish of past times
'causes dismay.
Boredom and dismay
'causes unrest.

These are the words of a restless mind.
Off and on, reports of dreams to find.
No matter how messed up it is,
Blessed be the unrest.
Mar 2012 · 8.3k
The Sevens
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
I
A playing raging guitar
Of a kid with taboo thoughts
The first cigar
Who fired shots of dots...
Don’t care and
The revolt of caring
Be scared and
Be the scare!
The acquaint of survival
The wrath of revival
Is everywhere
Anywhere, not visible too
The wrath is the root of trouble
But the root of solution is not wrath

II
A desire so
Excessive,
Rapacious and
Overweening
Of wealth
A pursuit so
Excessive,
Rapacious and
Overweening
Of status
A need so
Excessive,
Rapacious and
Overweening
Of power
A greed so greedy

III
Slaves of virtual reality
To whom dictatorship is not real
To whom liberality, brutality and unreality
Is not real
But the ticking clock is not sloth
Tick-tock, Tick-tock
Men who walk toward sloth
Tick-tock, Tick-tock
'till old growth
Tick-tock
Loath
Tock

IV
Sit idly-by low self-esteem
Caused by lack of ******
Translated to scheme
And unfortunate dream
For achieving an alleged excellency
Or a lengthy and empty possession
What frenzy
And all for envy

V
Advertising
On bus stops
On train stops
On metro stops
On everything that stops
To make you stop
And start
Over-consumption
Over-indulgence
Over everything
Obesity!
Wealthy
Withholding from the needy
From what they really need
Advertising gluttony

VI
A feature of abstinence
Leads to a lack of extravagance
But there are no angels
Only fallen angels
Or angels about to fall
A feature of desire
Leads to an higher feature
Noisy or hushed
It can't be crushed
It's just fuel swallowed
A tool for lust

VII
Pride is divergent
A dreadfully enemy
Or an inside allied
Pride is divergent
Mar 2012 · 1.0k
α/Ω
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
I
In the course of time
Defects commence to notice:
"Once, it was a hero"
Begins to melt
"Once, it was worshiped"
Starts to fade

The desire to be at least half
Becomes a mere illusion
The grief of starting from zero
Not be just a fusion, (I laugh), for
I am my own hero


II
An eternal dilemma: head or heart?

Life experiences repeat themselves over time
Look back, not with nostalgia, but with lucidity
Not to retell the same mistakes, that's stupidity
Rectify the defects, but don't be a mime

Head or heart?

These desires of a distorted mind are such strife
Those promises for life are barely a rind
It's as soon as you get to the point of no return
That you realize the fantasy must burn

Head or heart?

Use the head is an art
Using the heart in the right stead
But use them both is my oath


III
I come from a quiet little town
But I was never the type of let me drown
Lose and gain accents has always been my thing
So bring me the king of seek that we may sing together
That the best man win.
See, without knowing whether all or nothing
Write, until I have abraded skin, so when the time comes
The tought living at my fingers will shut
Sing, bright or heavyhearted
Feel the beat of unchearted drums
Yell by choice until lose my voice
Murmur lower than a subatomic bell
Until gain a tragicomic muse.


*The elocution of my brain has no dues
For art is a perpetual evolution.
Mar 2012 · 745
Simple thoughts
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
Simple thoughts for simple minds
Complex sights for the blinds
Blends of attractions and misdirections
Oh, so innocent are the imperfections

One, two
I said one and the lies begun
Two, three
I said two and there it comes the true
Three and nothing more
I said three 'cause I agree
I said nothing more 'cause I don't like the four

           Knock, knock
Are you looking for the key?
Does this make any sence?
Well, life makes no sence!
But you may find the key in the i
                                                          n
   ­                                                      n
                                                           o
                                                           c
                                                             e
                                                           n
                                                            c
 ­                                                             e of **simple thoughts
Mar 2012 · 454
Abstract, or not!
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
Inside it's a dark
Close the eyes
And you'll find
Some confessions
Between screams
From a few seeds
To dark dreams
Web of tears
To keep fears
Breaking threads
Melting threats
Mar 2012 · 519
(or not)
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
How do I look in the light?
What do you understand of me?
We all have demons, it's not so bright
And mines are inside my head (or not).

Drinking until I fall,
Cut my wrists and keep bled,
Hallucinate until my brain turn a hole,
But just inside my head (or not).

Awful demons;
Creepy demons;
Human demons;
Inside my head.
Inside of all individual demons
That's what I see inside my head.

How do I look in the dark?
Am I telling the truth?
If you can't see
It's because I'm a black spot

Inside my head (or not).
Mar 2012 · 1.0k
Tranquility is overrated
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
Tranquility is overrated.

Can you hear it?
Can you feel that scream?

It suddenly arise
Fear will perish
The walls get broken
Everything is possible
Everyone is free
Mar 2012 · 564
A letter in gray
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
The past is here
Present in memories
Hoping that this here and now
Will be present in future

We're sewn of experiences
We're grown of black and white
'Til the day when fabric get to rip
By the reaper almighty

It's easier to leave
But who am I to deceive
It's harder to stay
But sometimes life is gray

Prophecies of a boundless man
With a voice that echoes perpetually and
With a raw and visceral skin and
With a mad and incorruptible sanity

No limits!
No boundaries
No plays of puppets of flesh
No superb joy of sadistic men
No whispers
No ghostly voices of men, of me
No!

Talk to you as I talk to me
Express me to you as I talk to me
Here and now with the sum
Of all experiences,
Of all memories,
Of black and white,
Of gray,
Of me,
I'll stay,
Here and now,
I'll stay...
Mar 2012 · 1.7k
Not Cardinal
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
Be one, two or many,
Be another or others.

Air that inspires me to be
(One, two or many).
Fair fires that breaks me into
(Another or others).

Water that smothers and takes
The reason of my birth.
Earth that sustains the sky,
Is you that handles my sun.

A sigh of candles for any one
Who wants a clue.
A breath of a former me
That blew death free.

An echo flow informer
Arises and goes with disguises,
For he knows his ghosts.
And so I stay. I and my host.

I'm not done of be
One, two or many,
I'd rather not be
Another or others.
Just be.
Mar 2012 · 813
The Picture
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
I sweep through the mists of uncertainty
Pursuing the picture of my soul.
This need I suffer is my certainty
That I have to be whole.

I attempt to picture my subconscious
I start from scratch until memories vanish
It's like I've chains at the threshold of my conscious
I've to end up in the end to banish.

Is it colorful or black?
Perhaps abstract.
Perfection wrapped in chaos
Leading to an abstraction loss.

The soul's anatomy of an heteronym
Who, so breathlessly, seeks his creator says:
"Not be ignorant is an atrocity, but
Be ignorant in paper is ferocity".

At least he had wisdom to be aware
That some ****** that come numb and dumb,
Rare, is not to despair.

The weight of thought at my soul,
It could throw me at the longest distance
It could drag me to the deepest hole,
But is not enough to cease my existence.

No matter what, I am a scribe for soul.
Bring all the feelings at once, for I've a curse
And until I've breath I'll describe
Death is only the last verse.
Mar 2012 · 2.9k
CAGE
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
The simplicity of complex
The pattern of disorder
As the thin line between love and hate
Between reality and dream
Are vulnerable, corruptible
The free will is a dream
The absence of submission is a dream
A dream of spontaneity of a rational mind
Conformity seen as a synonym of happiness
Nonconformity seen as a synonym of craziness
These paradoxes of synonyms and antonyms,
Of simplicity and complexity,
Of dream and reality,
Makes life seem to be already written,
As if reality were just a story
With all this characters not living, but acting
According to rules implanted.
WE LIVE IN A CAGE WHERE DREAM IS THE ONLY ESCAPE.

The advertising of sensationalism
Or might I say:
A distraction of the cage,
A seduction for conformity,
A beam of war and poverty to keep us blind,
Drunken of sorrows of others
And to thank the Lord for what we have.

These are some of the bars of the cage
Bars to be broken with science and art and knowledge
Or as some may say: with craziness.
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
On a cold starry night beyond the treetops
Lochesh tasted what I believed to be blood of Gods.
Naive but prepared, he stared at heaven.
Stunned. Mesmerized, as a child and his new toy.
Earthly creatures as the all mighty lion,
Mythical creatures such as the fabled unicorn,
Imaginary creatures, he wonders...
But he heard a horn. Suddenly wakes,
All the heavenly peace turns into thunders;
He tries to be aware, but he's only aware of the poison
Referred as blood;
His heart speeds up, or stops. He cannot tell from the mud;
The world, in his eyes, doesn't seem to be continuous;
At those highs, everything is in slow motion;
He has the notion that everything is broken.
His special hat, Gore, finally showed him
That the only way out was the opposite of heaven,
So, he, Lochesh, walked to the door with a doubt.
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
Stepped into the dark he went.
Blood and vengeance in every single way,
Beheaded heads served in silver plates.
Staring at skeleton's party in the bay.
Not even redemption could save him
From entering the gates.
Muddy corpses dancing around over time
Laughing at those who are trying to climb.
Restless soul's voices crushed his rhyme
Causing a deafening roar.
Flames that burn the eyes, leaving him blind.
Having no eyes, he, Lochesh, sees the truth.
Left alone, merely with his  nature and special hat,
Gore.
Leafar Mamede Feb 2012
Look for the sparkle he went
With no fears or regrets
Just him and his special hat
For days and days he walked with no course
But he didn't repent
He just believed it was a curse
The way to the Eldritch village he couldn't find
But suddenly he sees the who knows everything cat
And there he stood before the cat for a while
So many days had past that he couldn't say a word
Thus the cat open his wise smile and said:
"The path to the Eldritch village I know"
The man was astounded - "A talking cat? This is absurd!"
Therefore the who knows everything cat walked through the snow
And so the man, believing in his special hat
Followed him through snow, space and time
After not knowing how many hours, days or years had passed
They reached the end of time climb
And there it was, the Eldritch village
The curse was caught in time
He, Lochesh, with his special hat
Lastly found the sparkle of rhyme
"Eldritch" suggests the operation of supernatural
"Lochesh" means whisper
Feb 2012 · 751
Sleepless nights
Leafar Mamede Feb 2012
Sleepless nights
Whirlwind of sadistic beliefs
A brain who's fading in bites
Souls turning as light as leafs
Trapped only by a thread
A fever as heavy as the All
I heard my thoughts that bled
Sunrise?
No!
It's just a scrawl
Feb 2012 · 714
Further More
Leafar Mamede Feb 2012
The urge for more
When enough isn't enough.
Always craving more and more.
For ever be sure,
Not be worth dying for a cure
'Cause supplying of worthlessness
Is all over the place, so pure.
The aesthetic of nature in a dress
That has the genetic of existence
Oh, so poetic, the coexistence
Of me and the remaining;
It's like a painting of flesh
Who's draining my words,
Words with an urge to refresh,
To prevail.

— The End —