As the writer wore away page after page, a swelling of maddening frustration grew. The parchment soaked in the dark ink, and pockets of **** seeped through each word. There is desperate power in written verse; They know this, yet the pen rages onward. The writer pays this debt in full, in flesh and blood, as one does. Stories must be told, the price is high, but silence cost ever more.
even the most beautiful roses have thorns. you find one you love you care for it as though it is your only child. but despite how well you treat your flower one wrong move and it ****** you. it happens in an instant. before you can even recognize your mistake youre bleeding. blood trickles down the stem and it stains the leaves as a constant reminder of the time your beloved rose hurt you.
so love your flower , love it endlessly. love it with no fear of hurting no fear of pain.
the crimson rivers that flow through my veins resemble the way tears run down my cheeks like there's a dam within me and it's constantly on the verge of breaking. the cool undertones that show through my pale skin can tell you so many stories. each capillary. can recall an experience of almost breaking through my epidermis the ever so violent slashes now faded but still fresh in my mind.
Left alone to go insane, haunted every night Trust no longer exists, it lies there beyond dead Violated, beaten and bleeding, so wrong it must be right They were supposed to bury Me, My brains run red
Substance calms Me, the images stop, for now So addicting, I lie at ease, no longer wondering how I can no longer see, and something appears to be missing My brain bleeds black, My legs are gone, I am dying
Every creature was shaken, every plant was wilted Blood runs tendrils through the clear blue sky The ******* child looked onward through the window A beautiful mushroom bride in his eyes, crying as the world tilted
Smiles for miles as spirits arouse the dead Second coming of the groom The beast is commanded to take what does not belong to him Pestilence rears it's foul head
Harlots and Beasts of the night rejoice! ****** and Demons alike dance their last He will storm the earth with a holy rage! We all die laughing, but not at peace, to know it was our choice