I wake up in cold sweats more than I wake up
Dreams of flying and floating have turned to
Finding and fear
Bodies of new and friends forgotten
My skin may bear what once was there
But forget not I will, the friends of young thrill

You still haunt and frequent my dreams
Tearing apart my sanity at all of its seams
Happy and somber, I remember it all
Liquor brings it out most of all
But it also calms that calls

Whatever liquor makes seem true
I can question without fighting
Because liquor is my choice and the
Lack thereof makes others king

Impulsive drones, these machos you have flimflammed,

Wolfing your proportionality like a **** brewed nectar of grapes,

When flimsy limb frills no more interweave, expertise reprogrammed,

Are you the lone from infinite frames murmuring, “once more, he escapes”?

Indignation ******* broadcasted, ferocity wrought into the fiber,

Prior, where narcissistic pathway architecture once lodged aloft,

Calloused acknowledgement of her duffel, abrupt pang, necessity for a prescriber,

My mettle is feeble of the soap opera, hanging one’s topper in my breath, I coughed,

The cauldron perpetually gurgling with spume, mingling itself,

Gyrating with giddiness as if my noggin was a top trinket,

No dust crumbs in any bustle ever jubilated atop my pit-a-patting instrument’s

Masses are anticipating for my enveloping blanket,

I perhaps beam till the cattle wham the timepiece, though seldom do I chuckle,

Shall journey with the ensuing waft, no comma for a buckle.

I see you everytime I close my eyes.
I blink, I sleep, I fall to your gaze.
As long as I live, for all of my days,
I am eternally haunted by your lies.

I think of the love we shared 'neath skies
Blue, with foxglove poison, sweet and poison haze.
But in my mind, your likeness stays,
Where once we loved... Now I despise.

I hate myself for loving you
Despise the words I gave us two
Because what was once cannot remain.

Now I cannot call us 'we'
Now it only can be called 'me'
Because what we had, you've slain.

Rare it seems that I am, a creature of idiosyncratic eccentricities

To some it is a badge of individuality, a crest of creative virtue

For this soul, it seems to be nothing more than just sorrow

To wade around in the waters of humanity, floating with stunted breathing

Never catching on to limbs, rocks that could become my sanctum

Looking at the sky in hurt, wishing to float away from it all

To see the infinite wonder of the cosmos, where I feel I would belong

And maybe it is an attitude of naivety and pretentiousness that I carry

But no joy is taken from it, only dread and somber rains in my hands

And hurt is given to others, from this

I'm glad that you're happy
but sad that I'm not
I just can't stop thinking
about how we fought

For months we've gone
without talking at all
but this time I'm afraid
it'll be years or longer.

At least we won't be somber
because together we're a storm
not a beautiful one either
we're a hurricane
destroying everything
that's in our path,
because we can

We're not good together.
But I can never remember
for whatever reason
I will always want you back.

My friend,
Do you fly away now
To the world
That abhors you and I
All that awaits you
Is a somber morrow
No matter where
The winds may blow
My friend your desire
Is the bringer of life
The gift of the goddess
Even if the morrow
Is barren of promises
Nothing shall forestall
My return

it's hurts, she said,
knowing everyone else
is okay and here I am
falling down that dark
tempting path again.
somber and delicate
as she described it,
you could see her face fall
and paralyze with fear.
she was afraid.
afraid she was getting
bad again.
i feel numb, she said,
i see the pain in my eyes
when i look in the mirror,
the desperation.
but i can't
stop, i close my eyes
and pretend i don't hear
my gasps for help
as i drown.

Guide us into our perdition,
Let your mighty will be wrought,  
Purge our souls of their sedition,
Free us from the bane of thought, and
Quell us with your superstition,
We'll act out your splendid plot, so
Empty us of our volition,
Bury dreams that we forgot,
Fill our hearts to make us brave, and
Give us strength, to persevere,
Help us live as gleeful slaves,
Until we fade and disappear,
Never laughter, ever after,
Wither still, and turn to dust,
The final chapter's violent rapture,
What was iron, now is rust

It's already past midnight, no more light is there,
On black velvet lays the heavy somber night;
On my forehead linger memories of your hair:
"My distant love, when, near me, will you alight?"

You are gone. As if you have died. Where are you? Where?
Separation possesses death's woeful might,
In  heart tingles and passions, in soul doubts and scares:
"I'll die this eve and after my dear take flight."

"Love is not joy!", do you know when you said such things?
"Love, it is a wound, one that so horribly stings,"
"Love hurts, it hurts, as only life of pain can hurt,"

"Woe, woe are they whose love is madd'ingly stalwart."
You're wrong. Love is pain, a flame burning to the bone,
But it only hurts when I'm lonesome – as a stone.

It was a bright day full of gloom

As we gathered about your tomb
Buried deeply beneath the surface
Solemn mourning was our purpose
Dressed in black as should be

Dark smiles for the world to see
Somber souls we came to morn

For deathly dying we were born

Now body lying beneath the earth
Decaying corpse farthest from birth
Dancing the dirge of final death

We dance it until our last breath