Why are others mouths inclined to draw the pictures I try to scribble out that form inside my mind?
A worthless, spineless creature- almost serpentine, wriggling on its belly baring cyanic, lachrymal eyes.
I want to squirm from this Stygian tomb, disenthrall my thoughts from the shadows swimming with me
inside this amniotic pool. I'm just a worthless fetus, a crumbling parasite and perhaps it becomes more
obvious when I try to keep it out of sight, like a stench you try to hide; Dulcify decomposition with a rain
of fragrant petals and slowly you'll come to find that magnolias smell of death, I can taste it
slightly on my breath and it whets their appetite, the demons that stink of ammonia that gather every
night orchestrating their symposia, their bellies full of laughter and drink while I'm full of minacious,
eternal thoughts that writhe through plumbless wrinkles and ichor, questioning motivation and what it  
is I fight for. I can never find the right answers... My tongue won't grasp the words, they just slip back into
their couthy throat where they can't be ignored; Left to die upon the shore, as fuscous waves that stain  
sand with rejection crash against my shattered form. My hands crack trying to flip the hourglass back  
and my eyes are constantly attacked by depression's thalassic pulchritude, a multitude of pains swaying
to and fro in veins, begging for escape but trying to stay encased. Life nulls and denudes, my aptitude  
for feeling- my natural ability to hold things close without unreeling heartstrings. Keep reading, there'll
be no eucatastrophe just endless pages of pointless animosity and tragedies accompanied by laugh  
tracks, everyone loves a jester with a proper act and I act a proper klutz futzing around with letters and  
spelling, trying to ensorcell any being to find my misery compelling.  

-SLuR

Earth: O divider, many of breaths
under foot that Springs to leap
where petals spilt in colors sleep
comes of life, and plumbless depths

Heart: O multiplier, many of press
crimson short who soon abeys
in summer's flesh you're wont to play
yet capped in bone of finite chest

So split thy fold of hindered letter
with poppies golden, let and mix
no point distinguished, no standard fixed
no chain of words, no useless fetter

For nothing wonders a lidded eye
of constant night by single sigh

Breathing in the fresh air near  the trees of serpentine purple,
To inhume  the dolour of my  dejected loneliness..
In the   distressing ire I am that   lacustrine,,
Listening the soft lay in the beautiful lea..
People know, my wounds are   plumbless,,
No tears in my  orbs  ,   seems I am    mage....
People  here are  serpents  who  don't  slay,,
But  are  giving  the  bad  sempiternal   gashes...
Now  look  at  my   stygian  tenebrous  visage,,
From which poesy is flowing with a plashing sound...
You,,  know   their  life   was  in   pitch_dark,,,
Now is lucent and niveous, orgulous!! what I did,,
Those  toys  of  clay   rend   me   savagely,,,
Now my vermilion  ichor exhibits the beautiful limn.
People  of  this  era  are  pitiless,, my  dear!!!
Are deceiving ere and after, not caring for eld..

A nymph that bestrews pulchritude
Had troublous nights too,
Plumbless sorrow
Plenteous misery

But lenity,
notably inhume every single piece of ire in my heart
Stilly, progressing
for a better survival

Malefic,
others might say
but little did they know
it's just being tough
to behold the future

Dulcifying each moment of my existence,
silently,
with people whom I trust

Still in the process,
but nigh to what I want to become
I am a believer
of my own thoughts.