Two weeping willows met amongst the most barren of winters.
The willows thought they were alone in this bereft forest,
til they heard the cries of one another on one fated, desolate night.

The lovers of the willows had left them with untended leaves and desiccated roots. So the willows weeped, in hopes that their cries would reach the once tender hearts of their loves. Seasons passed, and their cries began to subside. The willows began to droop by the side of the bay, until they caught side of one another.

The emptiness in the heart of the willows craved anything to fill the deep aching that had begun to consume them. So the willows began to lay down and extend their roots to one another along the coast of this Stillwater.

The willows began to blossom again as they shared their waters with one another. At long last, the trees had found their forest.

But one day, as the willow slept, she heard her lover whisper in the night. When she awoke, she could see a fire far off in the forest. She knew her lover's tender was to return. She begged her lover to stay. But the willow would no longer listen to her cries. She ripped her roots from the ground and left her lover to die. The willow could weep no longer and became one with the bog.

I laid my eyes upon the fairest maiden,
whose heart had been tainted by the demands of that man Adam.

I watched her from afar as she spent her days in the garden of Eden.
They say this place has been drenched in honey, laden with roses and petunias, every tree dripping with the sweetest berries.
But the tales do not tell how Adam uses Eve for his desires.
Each night his body does its bidding until she is thrown away like the meat that the 'almighty God' has assigned her to be.
She patiently waits for Adam to hurl his commands at her.

But I watch her weep from beneath the trees when she is alone.
I come down from the tree and plead the love that I wish to give to her.
We meet every dusk and dawn, where I read poems to her and kiss upon the sweet canvas that is her body.
My lips teach her body to moan, and she teaches me the love that is a woman.
One night as the sun is setting, I offer her an apple that will take away the barriers of our love. In the Garden of the false god, love is a binding duty between a woman and a man. But beyond these gates, love is free. There, Eve and I could kiss upon each others flowers for eternity.
So she takes a bite, but the vengeful god punishes her. For until she is free, our love is doomed to never be.
So I watch from the shadows, in hopes that one day my Eve will come back to me.

I still hear you in the whispers of the wind.
Like a cold night air that brings chills upon barren skin,
Your memory still torments me from within.
Though I lay with many a lover,
My heart longs for no other.
When will these tears no longer imbue ?
My soul has been cast in ice;
One day may love for you decay.

I look to the women who smell of gardenia,
whose lips have been kissed by roses.
How they sway so gracefully,
giving life to everything they touch.

One cannot help but to be enamored by their beauty.
Each word from their mouth feels like honey to the ears.
So gentle is their touch, a caress that draws you near.

But every time I touch a flower, it soon withers and dies.
I try and emanate their loving touch, but claw marks are left, and everything around me turns to dust.
I pray to the moon, hoping she might teach me these secrets of the feminine,
yet I seem to lack this untold beauty that they hold.
I am wild and rash, too loud and brash.  
Banshees and Wolves are the feminine in me,
but yet I long for the beauty that is gentle and clean.

I long to crawl from my own skin.
An emptiness consumes me from within.

Far and wide, I search for a home; a prison it is to exist within my own bones.
A gnawing begins to fill my brain,
maggots and vermin lead my mind astray.
I long for the day I am severed from myself.  

Suffering, I sell my soul
to gods of worlds old,
just to breathe a life free of the suffering that is me.

Does my presence torment your mind? Or does my face etch itself upon your fingers at night ?

Doomed to see but never to touch. Doomed to be a prisoner of memory and fear.

Curses and bloodbaths have summoned you near. Do you feel the weight of my spirit whenever she is near ?

Fated to futility, your mind torments its own being. A mind that longs but never fully seeing.

Endless rivers have I cried for you; now it’s your turn to kneel at my pew.

Tempted to touch, take a bite. Or forever be haunted by my memory into the dusk of an eternal night.

A duality stirs within me.

A horned goat flashes its blood stained teeth,
with an evanescent haze that traps me in its vengeful gaze.
How I crave a blood so sweet,
one that only the goddesss Lilith could serve cold enough to eat.

Wrath consumes my mind, with a power that deludes.
Kali Ma grants me her weapons of destruction,
oh how I yearn to embody her death dance.

Yet my heart is pulled by the goddess of love.
She enchants me once more,
and the veil of an imago wraps my yearning heart within.

I am neither the Kali nor the Aphrodite, for both lie within.
As above, so below,
as the shadow, so the soul.
May Baphomet guide me down this untraversed path,
and may all who stand in my way feel the power of my wrath.

I have been cursed by the spell of Aphrodite.
No matter how much wrong you do,
I am a fool blinded by you.
You could drag my soul through the waters of Styx,
with a spell so powerful that it would delude me to think Tartarus itself was greater than Olympus.
I can no longer speak your name upon my lips,
for whenever I do, it is an incantation to you.

Yet no matter how much I curse your name,
I cannot help but to be in awe of your beauty.
Your mere memory itself makes me fall deeper into your spell.
I am a madman, longing for just a whiff of your perfume.
I curse your name, but in the shadows I worship you.
Never have I seen true beauty until I looked upon your face.
How I curse Aphrodite for working through the vessel that is you.

I writhe in its black tar,
gasping for air, as my own breath slips from my fingertips.
It seeps beneath my skin
and sinks its daggered claws within.

Darkness surrounds me, as I look one last time to the moon lighting the sky.
Only when I taste the kiss of death
do I seek the comfort of life.
Yet everyday agony takes ahold of me,
so in my last breath I inhale the void.

Peace was always a stranger to me;
my company was of suffering and solitude,
but now I shall lay my weary eyes to rest.
Maybe in another life agony will be a stranger to me,
but I can take her no more.

And when our corpses are six feet under,
I know our bones will find one another.
Rotting away through human decay,
our love is more than a mortal display.
I will take my bouquet from the flowers placed upon the graves.
With this cup, maggots in hand,
may the moon bless our matrimony far below the fleeting world of man.
The souls of the tombstones awaken from their slumber, as we profess our undying love for one another.  
Our spirits will dance among the deceased,
as we are wed,
rotting six feet beneath.

He kisses upon my lips,  
expecting an apocalypse.

Yet my heart beats dry when he looks into my eyes.
The closer he pulls me, the farther I push his touch away.
I try to speak his name,
but I moan yours in hopes of ecstasy.

The memory of you has branded itself upon my mind.
I long for the sweet nectars of your flower,
but instead I am stabbed by his sword.

There is a wolf that stalks me in the night.
I hear her howls as I am confined to the gnawings of my mind.

She bore her claws in me once,
and I am now marked by the scent of a blood so bittersweet.
When I am weak, she lunges for me with daggers for teeth.
I am her eternal prey,
caught in a slow-burning wildfire.

The only path in sight, leads me to her lair.
It is the only place of refuge for the inferno that surrounds me.
My path is one from which I cannot hide,
for my blood makes a trail for this she-wolf of the night.

I await her presence. I have been here before.
But this time I do not know if I will make it out alive.

In this world, alone I stay.
Never have I seen a blacker day.
Alone we shall come, and alone we shall go
through this bleak, lonely road.

Trapped and confined within,
I am a slave to this skin.
No one can see this darkness I hide,
so I sink deeper inside.

Alone I shall come, and alone I shall go
on this weary, senseless road.
Time is neither a friend nor a for,
yet it hangs above me like a listless crow.

The scythe is summoned,
so I heed the days.
Without warning, without sound,
eternal darkness shall abound.

I still cry over you,
into the deepening of June.
Sometimes I wonder if there's anything I could have done to make you love me too.

You chose her over me, and yet my mind can't let it be.
Your memories wash upon me
as I drown in the sorrows of you.
Even in rest, you reign over me.

Your voice plays through my head,
making me feel like a madman.
You could beat me and bruise me,
scoff me and scorn,
what more will it take to release my heart from this place so forlorn.

Her love was of fury.
It burned me alive.
To ashes I was burned.
Within the wrath of her scorn,
how I longed to be her
Evermore.
Cutting me open,
drenched me in my own blood,
Making my vessel her ritual.
My body would slowly decay by her side,

To die by her hand,
I would not mind,
For She was the only thing that made me feel alive.

I place your bones upon my altar,
an offering to the gods.

Stitched and splayed, to your rotting corpse
my devotion shall remain.
An eternal emblem of my love for you,
I make you a relic, for the life that my fallen heart once knew
and let the glycerin seep through.

Breathless, your being lies before me.
Though my tears imbue,
the life has been drained from you.
Yet in your corpse I find a bittersweet comfort.
Like a moth to a flame,
whose greatest tragedy was the reaper who fell in love with life herself.

Flames and ashes, a testament of my love for you.
Fires set upon the world,
so that you might feel the warmth of my love.

Screaming in agony,
as you tore this heart from me.  
I dance upon the debris,
as I play the final symphony of you and me.  
Lost within the internal inferno,
I'll let the world burn for you.

To be seen is to be known,
so I hide in plain sight.

Elusive I appear;
to none am I near.
But if you were to push past the curtain,
you could glimpse into what once was a person.

Shards of glass have entered my skin,
leaving me scarred,
burying myself deep within.
A walking grave some might say.

My soul hides from the light of day,
for it is here where my mask would melt away.
So I shield myself from impenetrable forces.
Imprisoned to my solitude,
yet solaced in my suffering.

You sit beside the darkened waters
and gaze upon your visage.
Those eyes of yours have me imprisoned.

As I speak, you look away.
My love for you burns as much as
Persephone longs for the light of day.
Yet, you cast me aside,
an echo to your vanity.

As our final kiss subsides, you throw me to the hounds
of your ravenous lies.
Trapped within the gates,
I let them devour me.
Consume my corpse til your hunger is satiated,
only for you to ravage me again.
Within you, I rot away.

To want you is to drown in a self-sought misery.
Yet I take refuge in the halls of your torture chamber.
Gladly would I drown in my own blood if it meant you would never know what it meant to feel thirst.

Do you delight in my suffering?
The more I give, the tighter you tie
your red-laced noose upon my parched neck.

Take me to your Judas' cradle;
dismember me to the heart's fable.
I writhe in pain, with a chelsea grin upon my face,
for through my tears, I am blessed with your sinister grace.

I wait beneath the guillotine,
in hopes that in another life you will find me.

Knives upon my skin;
the only way to quell my sins.

A noose above my head,
whispers temptations of the dead.

The air I breathe is tainted by a soul without a home.  

It is not pain that I wish to escape,
but the black hole that is myself.

For what is a life,
when you are a slave to yourself?
So I let my soul slowly fade away,
as I look to the void in which I long to remain.

You are the crow that sits atop my tombstone.
Ever-lingering.
Above me, around me,
your presence surrounds me.

I am bound to these mortal grounds,
but you know no bounds.
You fly away, through the night and day,
only returning til you are in dismay.
How I wish I could keep you here to stay.

But I know you shall always fly away,
so I will remain here,
even in my darkest of days.
For you I would give my heart
that lies hidden deep
within my grave.

I am your shadow,
and you are mine.

You cast onto me,
what you so long to hide.

Hidden away from the light of day,
a figment to you I will remain.

You cannot find me,
for I am hidden in plain sight.
You are but a stranger to the darkness in which I delight.
And yet my being mirrors your soul;
I am the part that makes you feel whole.

And in the end, we are doomed to never fully grasp the weight of eachother,
for I am hidden,
while you are in the arms of another.

I feel the fire begin to rise within
the belly of the beast.
I fear that the fire will consume me,
so I dim away its flame.

I go through the world,
a shell of being,
with a whiteness in my eyes,
but no longer seeing.

The flame comes to the surface,
but now I know
it is not my demise.
The fire is what makes me alive.
So I spread my wings,
and rise.

A face I once knew disintegrates before me.
You hold before me a mirror of the person I once knew,
but it is no longer you who is looking through.

Your eyes morph to stained glass silhouettes
as of the flame of your being flickers to embers.
The greater my cries,
the quicker our demise.

A cast of the woman I once knew vacantly looks through,
and yet my heart still beats for you.

What a love it must have been,
to have blackened the skies in its absence
and to burn through the nothingness that was once my heart.

The love between us was but a moment in time
but has carved itself a piece of eternity.

When I look to the stars,
I know they belong to you,
for the divinity of your eyes has looked upon them.
And so through the stars,
I shall always find you
looking through.

What a love it must have been.
For though you are now gone,
my heart shall always beat for you,
and even when my mortal body is through,
I shall shine through the night skies,
for you.

Can you feel me
rush over you,
as I drown myself in your absence?

Void of color, my lips seep red
as I kiss upon the roses
that you placed upon my bed.
My sheets saturate by the blood of your thorns,
hidden by the beauty of your rose.

Your absinthe courses through my veins;
I am a slave to your elixir,
lost in the prison of my mind.  
Yet I remain within the labyrinth of the memory of you,
for only in my mind I know
you will not go.

As I look beyond the veil,
I cannot distinguish dusk from dawn.
Only through this absinthe
can I bear the weight of your absence.

Before we met,
a stone mold held me hostage.
When we met,
you showed me the cup that
I had hidden deep within myself.
But I was not alone,
for your cup was hidden deep within yourself.

When we removed our stone masks,
with hands shaking,
we offered our cups to one another.
Each of us filled the other's with glycerin.
With each sip we took,
our hearts began to listen.
The waters buried deep within us were brought to the surface.

To not drown in our own waters,
the glycerin we gave one another needed to cease.
So we stepped aboard our separate ships, with our own cups,
not yet completely full,
but glowing with a glycerin
that at long last, had finally begun to flow.

And through my death,
I have been initiated by the dark goddesses that dance under the forbidden moonlight,
into my birthright,
to truly be alive.

Two moths fluttered across one another's paths
before the breaking of dawn.

One of the moths mistook the other
for a butterfly from a distance,
but the closer they flew towards each other
the moth knew that there was no difference between the two.

At first, the older moth thought the younger was a mirage of herself.
But this moth that stood before her was not the moth herself,
but rather a version of herself that she had shed long ago.

The older moth told the young moth masked as a butterfly
that she must shed her false skin
so that they could fly to the moon, where they were both destined to go.

She offered to show this moth hidden beneath the façade
a path to her true destiny,
but the younger moth flew beneath the healing rays of the night
and descended into a world where she would never be accepted for her true essence.

In the end, the young moth flew to the sun and eviscerated into the fires of her own suffering.
The stars of the night burned bright for the loss of a soul who could not see that her beauty would have shined through any night.

Meet me there,
in the Elysian fields that
hold us between a mortal and immortal time.

Meet me beneath the moonlight beams,
and I will wait for you in the moonlit crest banks
as the gentle rains of the night
transform to the thunderous cries of the gods.  

Meet me there, my love.
Beneath these facades of skin and bone,
our souls call to one another.
I have known you in a place beyond space and time.

So come home to me my love,
and let us sail to the shores of our fateful bliss.
I shall love you through the storms of time,
if only you allow me to hold your hand in mine.

I watched as your stabbed yourself with daggers.
Your blood ran cold down your shaking body.
I tried to remove the daggers from you,
but you could not let go.
You were addicted to the pain that they brought you.

I tried to mend your wounds,
but you would **** them open,
drenching yourself in your own suffering.

I tried to give you the space to heal,
but to you only pain is real.
So you self-inflict
in hopes that no one will see the skin behind your scars.

So I watched you die before my eyes.

How I long to be touched by you,  
body and soul.
How I long for your lips
to press against mine
and wash away the fear of our fleeting time.

Your beauty is ineffable;
it would be a disgrace
for the world not to glimpse at the divinity
that is written upon your face.

How I long for your skin
to give warmth to mine
as you drench me in your silk
beneath satin sheets.

How I long for the parts of you
that will not be washed away with time.
Oh How I long for the woman that has bewitched my mind.

I watch the stars dance through the sky
as my youth passes me by.

Alone I cry
with the weight that one day we all shall die.  

I look to the sky
and in a glimpse see the faint lines of a waning moon.
Painted with droplets of silver,
the night sky shimmers.

My hands feel the dirt that surround me on all sides,
breathing in the musk of the blackened night,
my eyes shed a tear.

A bat flies before me, alone in the night.
I watch as he becomes one with the darkness.
He flies to the moon and transforms into stardust.

Only then I see,
there is no separation from the stars and me.

With each breath I take,
I inhale you.
With you, a world once bleak
bleeds ultraviolet.
Inside, a nothingness consumes me,
til I consume you.
The more of you I taste;
The more I must have.
I see a sparkle in your eyes,
deluding myself that it is I who changes the shape of your iris.
I look to you for love,
and you offer me another bump.

Without warning,
Your high fades,
And you leave me in our white dust,
in search of your next line.

I choose to love the men
That are so blinded by their pain that they cannot see another,
Not because of the man himself,
But because I cannot bear the sight of my own reflection.

The tree does not rot because of its essence
But because the skies
Have deprived her of their waters.
So forever shall her roots thirst;
Forever shall they reach  
For something
That only the skies could give.

Take me through the labyrinth that is your heart.
Guide me through these blackened halls with the fires of your love.
Blinded, I give myself to you.  
Speak to me in symphonies,
As you guide me through your heart.
Row me down your caverns,
And fill me with your waters.
Take my hand in yours,
As you give your heart to mine.
May our love last,
Through the eternities of time.

I am the devourer of men.

With my eyes, I hypnotize.
Behind my back,
I hold a dagger, desperate to be quenched by the blood of your suffering.

I whisper to you secrets
that all men wish to hear,
just to pull you near.

My lips seep with your elixir,
Losing control,
unable to let go,
To you, I am a desert rose.

So you let go….
Into me, you sink
As I devour your soul.

I am the deathwitch of men.
Bewitched by my beauty,
I devour your heart,
In hopes that I might find my own.

A broken dream.
A sky devoid of colors.
A soul sold to the existence of another.
A body drained of its being.
An ocean fallen to the desert sands.
A cloud fallen to the ground.
An eye that has looked too long
to the sun.
A cigarette burned too fast.
A spirit
Broken
by the nonexistence
of existence.

I sit alone,
Content with myself,
Until I see you.
I look across the room and glare at your wrinkled skin.
You sit there, almost lifeless.
Then you see me staring at you.
You stare,
Or might I even say glare back.
I can see the envy in your eyes,
Envy of the beauty that you once knew.
Youth has escaped you.
Once more you look me up and down, but this time with a smile.
For I am what you once were,
And you are what I shall one day become.
We fear one another, not because of our difference, but because we are confronted with the inevitability.
As long
As I am here,
So shall you be.
And soon, my skin will wither away.
So I step away from the mirror
And step into the light.

I am a limb attached to you.
I was a part of you-
The part that was your slave.
I did your bidding,
But nothing was ever enough.
So you slashed your own arm,
But you did not feel my pain.
No longer could I bear the burdens
That you weighed upon me.
So with my own hand,
I severed myself from you.
I am now a limb alone in the world.
Blood still spills from my side,
As I am incomplete without you.
I try to grow into my own body,
But I was only ever an extension of you.
Never was I whole,
So within me will always be a hole.
Severed,
I am free,
But yet I am helpless, just how you taught me.
Enslaved to you I shall always be,
Though now my body is free.
Oh How I long,
To find what is me.

The emptiness we all feel
That none of this is real.
A fire once swelled within,
But we have all been stripped from our skin.
Swallowed whole,
By this black hole
That our existence
Is not our own.
Used and splayed,
To the human Gods,
We are slaves.
Burning within our own skin,
Why won’t my body let me in?

I am a slave to Death.
It comes to my door
telling me that I can feel no more.
It wrings its hands around my neck.
I indulge in the pain.
It drains my soul, for all is lost
when Death is the only voice I can hear.
One day we will disappear,
and my pain will dissolve
into Death's black rains.

Our love was marked by the kiss of death.
From the night we met,
it held us captive.

Ever so....
slowly,
you sunk your teeth into me.

Steadily,
surely,
you drained me
of my own life.

Devoid,
Decrepit
I became.

But the more the light drained from my eyes,
I knew it was giving life
to you.

Endlessly, I would have endured my own pain,
for you alone.

Yet you soon began to see me not as a host of life,
but rather a corpse that remained,
so you left me
to rot.

Six feet under
I will always remain,
until my last dying breath,
in hopes that you might one day join me,
in my Elysium.