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the corpses in mud so incorrupt and alluring
as are relics of sinless saints from times past

I can no longer bear this eternal divinity
blessed and sanctified by the moldering devil

I have become a living incarnation of nefas
enthralled by the ecstasy of my own perdition

I soundlessly hex into the dark sunless fog  
along with the songs of the sinners as prayer
a quiet hymn to the cursed wretched souls
inaudible whispers begin to surround me
Amanda N Skaggs May 2020
To the airy king
Subjects of perdition bow.
Breathing in their fate.
Ileana Amara May 2020
it is a curse to remember,
and feel nostalgic
of a forgotten era,
when memories and reality
are complete opposites.

IA
Anthony Mayfield Jul 2018
Hey, Mister Man
Tell me why
You chose to steal concentration
Because of you,
I am in perdition
Vengeance is mine
Says the old and wise
But I can’t discern
When love fogs my eyes
So, coming down
The man in the Blue-Haired robes
Because of His brutal choke
Tonight, the choir sings
Of your deception
And my depression
So, coming down
Say something
Coming down
Do nothing
I can’t sleep while my soul
Cries at night
Hey, Mister Man
You’re coming down
The good die Young, but the wicked have it worse because they live long enough to someday realize that karma is coming for them
M G Hsieh May 2018
We veered towards calle muerte. It is 
inevitable we come here. Before this, 
there was no us. All things was only
you. One year ago, you called me a
*****. One month later, i learned
about the affair, that i was the obstacle. 

Separation. It provokes anxiety 
and relief. For appearances, a
requirement of exchange needs
subterfuge. It won't help us
to seem greedy to others. I
will not relinquish what is
lawful.

Last week, you invited me,
say you will give stuff
due to me. Yet, not my 
pride? Let's not play
anymore. 

The drive back to my
place disquiets us.
uzzi obinna Jan 2018
Who am I to fly you to the sun,
Where the stars sit and watch us burn?
Who am I to take you to the sea,
Where Leviathan is supremacy?

Where else can I make your home,
A place where angels and demons roam?
Where can we find a safe hole-
A place to hide your precious soul?

Sometimes we can hear the ocean calling,
Sometimes its a still small voice whispering,
The voice Dear VIRGINIA heard- yes the troll,
We'll forever miss her- oh bless her soul;

What will the departed say of u and I?
Will they receive us in the sky?
What will we see when we look the devil in the eye,
Will it be hate, compassion, remorse or a battle cry?

Shall we see the pentagram when the sun king is born?
Will there be hope for the broken and the torn?
Will we hold hands and dance in the vineyard of Jezebel?
The vineyard which Naboth refused to sell.

What if we just sit beneath the stars tonight,
And watch our enemies burn in their fight?
And ask the moon to shine very bright,
So that none would be out of sight?

The world is in so much terror,
Anguish of an unending labor,
Children of perdition is all she brings forth,
Many without substance, without worth:

Gather your friends as we cross the red sea,
Let all those who say we can't, stand and see;
The sun and her friends shall stand still,
While we fulfill our hearts utmost will.
Josephine R Jul 2017
Burn, fire. Burn.
Spread thy blaze upon broken *******
Of meek men and woeful women.
Cast thy roaring flames into their sore hearts,
For no longer shall they lend submission
To the cold deceits of their perdition.
Max Southwood Oct 2015
I walk with weary eyes
Tired of seeing, no longer willing to hear
My head spins from the smoke of your conflagration
Burn me down from the inside out
Lungs of ice trap the filth
Make sure the essence becomes my own
I try to scream but cough out words of rancour
A whirlwind of smoke and embers
My ashes block the sun
Nothing can grow here
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