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The essence of love
From a beautiful precious birth
Spouts the purest form of innocence; love
To exalt those who shelter our sole being
Conscious love brings fear and mental torment
To taint and eradicate our ethereality
Infected with bleak reality
Lunar sorrows of solitude and seclusion
Demonic presences reap at the heart
Bringer of dread, separation with no solution
Loss of my heroine, Queen of beauty
Desolate and afraid, naked and cold
By chance, arbitrary love and yearning
The insatiable appetite for such a person
Unescapable feelings of bliss and elation
Consumed by exultation
Solace and soothing serenity
How I cannot picture a life without thee
A tomb of anguish and sorrow
Eternal lamentation
We must stay intertwined and inseparable
Clasped together until bleak nothingness
Engulfed by your presence, my Queen of the
night
Dressed in satin black
Princess of darkness, priestess of mars
I call out to Eros
To extol the highest power
Two souls cast by a single flame
A shared rhythm of beating hearts
Entangled til death swallows our existence
The essence of love
Love is more than a feeling
Tucker Mulder Mar 19
Through the shadows of pure pain and misanthropy
Demons rise in bleak black smoke
Cloaked in black agony and nothingness
To decay in a deathless world
Means not to to thrive
Yet birth in pain from a wounded mother Earth
The womb of blood and infection
Taints the purest form of innocence
All life ceases to exist
Abandoned and dead
Skinless and blind
The faceless emerge from the grave
Speaking in tongues understood by the chosen few
Echoes of immortality and consciousness
Reverberating through endless fields of deceased life
Not a soul can not be heard
Effervescent screams of understanding
Pale skin of a ghostly silhouette
God hath no power over them
Nor the universe itself
The gaping wounds of our motherly figure
Bring to life the exiled silenced souls
Created to fail at conception
In a hopeless reality of solitude and seclusion
The misunderstood come forth together
Wearing the crown of thorns and blades
Rising as a pack of rabid wolves
The end is now the beginning
What is goth
But certainly not Machiavellian
Narcissist nor psychopathic
But yet it is the creative
Unique
And beautiful
Think about that
Before you judge a book by its cover
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