my heart weighs
heavier
and heavier
with all the sins
but
I look at what's in front of me
with ill intent
ready to pile more gold
onto my soul
and drag it lower
all the way to hell

They say lust is one of the deadly sins
but when his lips travel from my own,
down my neck,
exploring uncharted territory
it feels more heavenly than anything offered in the pages of the bible.

I don’t necessarily believe in god,
but I do believe that his hands are my welcome to the golden gates.
And if god is real,
She would want me drown in his embrace.

She would tell us that this,
this thirst that we have for one another,
is natural and as close to divine as we can get.

The frantic desire to be closer,
despite being on top of him already,
is a testament to the power She gives us.

A verse hidden between the lines,
She whispers about the apple,
and how the hidden knowledge Eve was granted
was never really a secret in the first place.
but instead,
a test of curiosity,
She dares us to explore.

To take a bite,
and savor the sweetness that we sink our teeth into.
never more alive than in the moments we are gasping for air,
trying so hard to breathe one another in.
Unsure of how long this night will last,
or if we will get another chance at being this bold.

Holding hands,
and throats,
exchanging smiles
and grasping on to anything we can wrap our fingers around.

Shirts,
hair,
sheets.

This is what She meant when She told us we would
long for the lewdness of our youth.

If god is real,
She would want nothing more than
our laughs and jokes to break up the intense reality that we are in.
She would send music down whenever he asks if I am still okay.
She would brighten the moon in glee,
because what could be more angelic than the halo
of hair spread out behind me.

What could be more holy than owning your body
shamelessly.
unbothered by the wind whistling,
cheering us on in this moment.

They say that lust requires a penance,
but if god is real,
She is proud in this moment.

She has granted us the tools and the instinct,
lust was never really a sin.
We don’t need to ask for an absolution,
She grants us pleasure,
whispers that we don’t need to be forgiven.

There is something so humane about
the animalistic sounds clawing their way from his throat.
At the end of the night,
I find myself praying,
thanking Her for each mark on my skin.
Never asking for Her mercy,
this is heaven on earth
and it was She who created it.

By Arcassin burnham


All you could do is laugh,
Do is laugh when they throw stupid ****  your way, it feels so right,
I swear it only takes one bad day just to
make a mans old memories just die,
The bat was the cause , he better not lie,
I'll have the pleasure of encountering this ***** again,
It doesn't even have to be so serious, why?
Or does this good guy routine make up for former sins,
I'll watch the world the burn for amusement , it's not
a serious thing when it's apparent to say,
But you have to come to this biblical conclusion,
Won't the world end in fire anyway,
I got missions to do, people I gotta save (****),
I would have loved to put a smile on that face,
In fact don't worry, cause when these *******
go to hating,
I'll be sitting with a big smile to the taste,
All I do is laugh.


/

When I start my voyage, I'm entitled to, whatever I do
And that's law,
Descend into madness on the streets of gotham , after
All the things that I saw,
I see the world in flames , there's no better picture that
I would paint for this moment,
To have a plan of attack , while fighting back the bat,
A drastic measure was chosen,
I'm in my Prime , this is my true form, I'm in on a joke that
you're not,
Separated from reality , balanced actually, all praise to
the onslaught,
I'ma put a smile on that face,
**** everyone in this place,
Bomb the whole thing , my guy I do not choke,
But you'll never get my joke.

You'll never get the joke.
You'll never get the joke.
My guy I do not choke.

oh how easy it is
to succumb
to the mercy of my own greed.
instantaneous;
like fingers flicking through
burning candle flames.
danger is right around the corner
if i turn in that direction,
leaving the car idling
while dashing on cracked pavement
making my mothers back break
a thousand times over
for a moment's taste
of chaos.

By Arcassin Burnham

Stay where my soul is extending while
slowly ascending from the abyss,
Stuck between a rock and a hard place in this
place I wish I won't exist,
Searching for things in this life I can not find,
They leech off my existence,
Committing these sins for the same **** reason,
I don't know if I serve a penance.
Live from the river bank , song from the ocean floor,
People spill the red stream,
Religion kills and revive the life of the others waiting
for a dream,
Serving things that don't serve back, why the hell
Is this an ongoing thing,
Playing off your weakness boy , don't let your blood
fall in the red stream,
Red Stream.

i bear the cross of faith
tied down to the angels of
Heaven.
He listens to my praises
like the whisper of windchimes.
a tickling of silver tongues.

in the trying times
He burns in my head
a fireball of glory
a lavish thought in my brain.
He instills fear
He instills pride.

we read the words from His Grace
memorising the holy scripture
pretending like we understand Him
pretending like He
understands us.
the loss of faith is lost upon all.

and so as i sing these monotonous
phrases of glory
inside the church of alabaster
i ask of Him a delirious question
and he would answer deliriously.
a consciousness of oneself.

and as i feel my feet on the floor
the gold tiles freezing my soles
i bring into His Grace
a sinner
i ask myself
i reside in a golden cathedral.

i bear the cross of faith

I am of different mind.
Strong convictions about
The guilty, the right and the wrong.

And with the Devil on my back,
I scream this strange song.

Sins of the father, falter farther.
His downfall will be my ascension.

Through the manacles of manipulation,
He offers cries of peace, of mending.

A piece of a puzzle, which drew me life,
But the business ends there,
I'll not be intertwined in such affairs.

I'll ******* the old man, in mind and spirit.
The blinding goal of this obsession,
But these fruits of labor utter no confession.

And true, such an unwavering soul,
Is dark, toxic and hell.
Though, with black magic, it is for me to sell.

So it happens, that the devil is me,
Then I'll sit with that in evil glee.

Good, bad, or ugly.
I am left only with myself.

Some demons are born from malice
Sky rending hatred and blood storms
Such are demons of unending passion
Some demons are born from greed
Covetous grins and shifty hands
Such are demons of delirious nature
Some demons are born of desire
Coquette gazes and glazed eyes
Such are demons of temptation
Some demons are born from hunger
Thirsty tongues and soft palates
Such are demons of gluttony
Some demons are born from envy
Green eyes and clenched teeth
Such are demons of bitterness
Some demons are born of laziness
Slow movement and emotionless
Such are demons of apathy
Some demons are both of the self
Arrogant demeanor and fearless gaze
Such are demons of pride
All are demons, that come from oneself
But the true evil of sin
Is the self.

Brown and black mark the day
of the deceased, the celebration
is in full swing and the band awaits
the midnight gown. The masks
have plucked the stars, so let’s begin.

Before the fountain drowns the
accordion’s laughter, take a second
to bow before the corrupted sighs.
Lick the ash and bleeding thorns,
there is never too less for a soul.

She will summon your darkened half,
so stitch your tears to the body and go.
Remember the routes that your sins
have carved, so ignite your last wish
to lead you beyond the world undone.

They speak in impious ink, the leftover
froth denies to be swallowed, but
stand there to help them gulp down
the lifeless. Help them tear the flesh,
help them gnaw at your breath.

©️Rooh