A harbinger he was born
a puppet to dirt  farmers in the
fatalistic empires of lost liberty
He spent his boyhood drifting  in aimless
pursuit of a less broken home
but his past eats him from within

His greedy grasping hand is fear
with self indulgent dark eyes he
comes to my haven and bringing
his hand in tow and lays its sweaty meat
on my soul
Its cold dead feel crawls down my spine
like migration of hope to forgotten places

He is a mirthless man
the trumpeter in the parade of dying
quests to find a better future
He is preaching his own brand of God
from the poorhouse soapbox
shouting wildly with his hands
he is a small man in a tall frame
who feeds on poverty of pocket and soul
preys on the weak and unwary
he is a apothocary to the souless

only when i look through The Eyes of God am I at peace,otherwise nothing else makes sense,nothing else matters.why?there's nothing else Mathers,Marshall law we were all mislead by indoctrinated Fathers,who sought to turn us into martyrs,for entertainment only like the top five NBA starters,consumed with keeping up with the carters n catering to you haters simply by having goals that's greater,keeping faith til one glorious day Sandy comes and meets me standing in the breeze blowing trees , wind and rain set my mind at ease,caught in a storm lost in a whirlwind my head spins tilted in a dribble passing the days,still giving thanks "forever"until the day I'm carried over to the center of the suns rays...finally i see the light...yet i remain the same so many things on the brain lost,grounded,clueless;stuck like a bird in the rain.

If ever I stumble upon your soul
I will find a way to let you know
and I'll do my best to give it to you
so that you and your soul can travel through
this crazy life united as one--
as a souless life seems (somehow) so undone...

Another night of television hell I was in the middle of a hell of a block.
And withoout the funds my usal cure of hookers and *******  wasnt a open
road so to speak.

I was lost I wondred the streets like  ****** in need of a john.
When through the darkness it appearded a well lit haven in the middle of
a thoughtless storm.

The cinema cafe drinks and films  hmm from looking at the marquee seems
there wasnt much to choose from .
It read like a preschooler had puked apon the board.

There were sequels, and prequels,  gay vampires that walked around in the day,
Weirdos who flew around on broom sticks and loads of treenage **** minus the ****.
Dear lord! I had to get to the bottom of this problem.

The pimple faced kid at the booth asked me in a squeeky yet firm semi manly
voice can I help you sir?
Yes my dear crater face whats with this **** you call films here ?
Umm I dont make em sir there just whats popular.

The greezy faced hampster had a good point in what he said that is.
cause other than that I had no clue what he was working with really what do you think
I am some kinda pervert?

Let me ask you something do you like this **** you sell tickets to?
**** no dude its garbage for halfwits and retards  and some people from Canada.
Who the hell wants to see that **** from twilight  play snow white?
Let me ask is that a adult film?
Duh no ******* we dont show thoose here.

Would you know were I could see thoose films?
Im doing some umm research on human sexulality  it involves alotta big words
which i cant spell so i'll spare you the details  just point me in the right direction
and nobody gets hurt.

Dude they havent shown thoose kinda movies in theaters for years.
Oh yeah and theres this thing called the internet once is way better than writting on your
cave walls.
Kids there really great *******.

After some back in fourth who gives a **** or really reads this ***** banter.
The man with the pizza face finally hit his limit.
Look *******!
I dont make the **** ,I dont watch the ****!
If you gotta problem take it up with the studio exects in Hollywood.

You gotta point there sparky give me your keys!
What! No.
Give me your keys or else.
Or else what grandpa  your gonna hit me with your walker.

No you silly *******.
Or else I'll shoot you.
Ya see young man that should wear a iron mask.
You may have a I Phone
But I have a handgun  and  that always wins the debate no hand em over.

After a brief moment of the little ******* ***** crying and begging for me not to **** him.
Really he watched to many TV shows I wasnt gonna **** him besides.
Im allergic to prison and it wasnt even a real gun what a *******.

I was off in my borrowed car  to the land of bad ideas and great **** jobs.
A place more fake than barbies dream home minus that dickless tool she always
hung out with  not that I played with Barbie's but she does have some really kickarse *******
and im a big fan of ******* hell what great writer isnt?

It was a drive that seemed to take forever  but finally i pulled up to the front gate
of Warner Brothers studios.
The little weird looking gate keeper looked at me and said .
can I help you sir.

Yes please direct me to your leader strange gaurd troll.
Uhh sir this is a closed lot only people with passes can enter.
Well what if i know the secret word?

Who told you about the secret word?
I had him with that one.
These Hollyweird vampires couldnt have enough brain power to
keep some pass on them.
Okay whats the secret word sir?

I had to think deep and from such a shallow mind that was asking alot.
What could it be it had to be something that rang true like snorting a line of
coke of Katy Perry's  ***'s.

Dear lord I had it.

Brad Pitt ***** donkey *****.

The man looked at me in utter shock  I wasnt sure if he was gonna let me pass
or try to pull me out my slightly worn odd smelling borrowed car.
Alright sir it's lot 69 hahaha  yeah I know im demented.

Right next to the lot there filming Winds Of Change **** The Musical!
Staring Johnny Depp and Bogo the ***** chimp.
****** i wish i wasnt busy  that chimp seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders.
Well when he wasnt jerking off and eating bannans while throwing his poo.
What a talent indeed.

I found myself in the studio people running every which a way.
It was total confussion   seemd like no one had a clue what the hell they were doing.
Hey ******* shouted some weird little man in a chair who the **** are you!?.

The little red haired man must truely be dellusional.
How could someone not know Gonzo?
Well sir just who the **** are you? I replied.

Well im Ron ******* Howard *****!
Hmm never herd of you are you a director or something?
What!!!
Ever hear of Andy Griffith  or Happy Days?
Oh yeah your that little dork that hung out with that cop yeah what a snitch.
I was playing his son *******.

Dam well seems this ginger finally explained to me why that man always had him around
it all makes sense now i just thought he was some kinda pervert.
Course seems like he had picked up some bad habbits from that Fonzie guy
never trust a man who calls the restroom his office but what a man does with
another man in a ***** restroom for plesure or profit is his own bussiness.

Look *******  what the hell do ya want?
Lets start with a gallon's of nothern light maybe some top shelf hookers some good music.
Maybe a couple hits of some lets say nose candy maybe turn off the lights and see what happens.
Im just saying sometimes ya gotta let nature take it's drug filled course.

Im not talking bout from life dip **** i mean what the hell are you doing here?
Oh **** sorry there  carrot top.
I wanna see the person in charge that green lights all this remake **** you souless
morons put out and call entertainment.

The little red haired devil was silent as he explained to me no one ever saw the
studio head it was like meeting Santa Claus or ****** or being in the pressence of a unicorn
really whats the diffrence.

He warned me of the dangers of meeting such a great mind yet like I do with
most people I simply shook me head and agreed much like i do with
women im trying to sleep with duh like I care about her tweenty seven cats.

Finally after learning I wasnt taking no for a answer he lead me to a room
And in this room was a screen and apon the screen appread a face.
Who dare question the mighty head of the film studio!!

The voice was loud  still it had that comfoting quallity that you just have to love in
a windbag *******.
Umm me.

You well who the hell are you?
Duh ******* im the long winded ******* writting the story.
Oh well what the **** do you want?

Sir I wanna know what the hell's wrong with you people.
Look im a drunk but i could never be drunk enough to pay a fortune to watch half the **** you call entertainment between remakes and films based on gay *** stories about vampires
and dudes who run around the woods calling themselves werewolves.

You mean you actully saw twilight?
The voice asked me on the verge of laughter.
Duh i see a bunch of hot chicks  going anywhere im following without asking
much like the mindless drones that watch that ****.

Sir your a sad sad man.
The strange face on the screen vanished out from the curtan appeared
what looked like *** it was Bugs Bunny !!

Bug's!  
What's up gonz?
****** i always knew you were real much like Fergie and spanish fly.

Gonzo i know half this **** ***** but its because mindless idiots love studip ****.
Look you were once a popular writer and you cant even spell.
Ouch now go ahead mighty furry samuri.

Ya see whatever makes money we put out and really stupid young girls much like your teenage
wife love that **** and being perverts like yourself wanna get laid you'll take them to that ****.
Bugs are you saying it's all about money?

No **** *******.

We talked drank watched backroom casting couch tapes of early starlets like
Harrison Ford no wonder he was so good with that whip.

It was magic minus the  money loving **** mouse that'll sue your ***.
Bugs I gotta ask you a deep question?
Shoot there Gonz .
Is Mickey really just a cross dresser calling himself Minnie?

You are messed up in so many ways Gonz.
We laughed swapped ***** stories  like the time Bugs slipped
Daisy some ****** and got a ******* in the magic castle  while goofy watched.

What the **** is Goofy?

Gonz .
My furry amigo said to **** if I know.

Untill next time kids stay crazy

And remember if you wish apon a star  ya better make sure to whom thoose copy rights
belong to truley are.
Cause thoose rich ******* will sue your *** .

Cheers

                               FIN?

Broken lines on subway walls, twisted dolls, and high noon cat calls
This is the way I see life
It is a micosm of our failed society,
with a beaten down view on stained glass, shattered on the empty church floor begging us to pray over a God that we can't see or touch.
Kneeling in front of the wooden church pews, with two bruised knees yelling out in pain our convictions into some sort of religious echo chamber of  somber and remorse
So, you want us to believe in what is real or what is not!!!
What is this so called life you speak of?
It sounds like a messed up Shakespeare tragedy
A sad tragedy that surrounds every living soul like some God forsaken circus freak dressed up ******* in a clown suit
A souless tragedy that beats down the door of our hearts then shreds it into tiny pieces, only to leave it on the ***** kitchen table to rot in front of us
Yes, that so called life
Its hard to imagine what I have seen
what I touched, or what I have felt inside
I cannot explain it in simple words, it's complicated
It's more bad than good, destitute and diluted, forgotten and then deleted
It has all become a tragic piece of me
Why? Because I live it every single day, every single minute, every single second and every single breathe
So, let that sink in. Just tragic in a way, tragically distorted mindless thoughts trapped in each one of us.

This wilderness beats from my bones.
The air,
Tangling through my hair,
Bells, ringing from long lost homes
Soul
Tumbling down an empty rabbit hole
Like alice.
My mind is ebbing away at
Short-lived thoughts and fantasies
Like light hood dreams.
Sunlit rays refracting past
Leafless, souless trees
Tiny watered boats on misty seas
Squelching; muddy puddles in
A rainy morning haze
Baked hot heat, dewy grass on
Lazy summer days
Pristine, soft-capped mountains
Last angle to explore
Sand, rock, pebbled beaches
(Tacky matted gloss on plastic)
Gravelled paths well trodden
Donkeys, camel, horse
Talking, shouting, screaming, morse
code on docks and oceans
Cities: loud, tall sleeping
women, men, children, babies
The noise, the love of crowds is seeping
Through my heart.
Insomnia from all these places
(People everywhere)
I cannot stop nor start.

Inside doors i feel i'm trapped
Like lion in a zoo
Around the world, i've gone and mapped
I'm wild
Through and through.

here i sit, qlone and broken,
finaly my eyes are wide open,
it seems that i've been living in a dream.
my worst nightmare has come true.
the gleam in your eye is not for me,
but the destain in mine is for you.

you who con damsils in distress
with your fast talking lies, and your puppy dog eyes.
you, souless animal, monster in my disguise,
you are the one, i will forever despise.

as long as my heart goes on beating,
i will never open the doors for you,
i gave that key to somebody new,
after you toar my heart in two.

somebody amazing, who loves me,
cause i saw the light, you're nowher near a dark knight.
just an imposter, with a heart cold dark and ugly.

Im not a person
I have a person
its in my wallet
if you got a minute
I'll prove it
I'll explain it
to rearange it
in your brain stem
to churn your stomach pit

Alegal fiction was created at birth
against my will
too young to sign it
its not valid

You think slavery is dead
the sheeple are sleeping
in their soft shackles

We have freedom of choice
to keep us distracted
but we ask and beg for permission
like a child
can I use my property?
can I eat?
can I stay warm tonight?

Submisive to supposed authority
with their fancy words of trickery
Legalise to make to buckle at you knees
Please, Please
tell me there isnt a tax on my sneeze
Cause to me thats slavery

The sun has set
So has my soul

In a land faraway,
Filled with nightmares and tear streaks

It lays in the bottom of a pit,
Abandoned

I once tried to retrieve it,
Now I have scars on my arms and hips

Once a friend sought after it,
Only to get lost in the darkness and never return

But then once a girl got it
She was the girl with the wolf eyes

She climbed into the pit, my hand in hers,
Slowly she picked it up
And pulled us both out

She cradled it in her arms
And nursed it back to health, just as I had hers

We lived happily souls together,
Patching each others as we went along

Then one night she decided to take my soul and throw it back,
Slicing, tearing, ripping bruising,
Back into the deep dark pit

She simply disappeared into the night,
Never to be heard from again

I can't help but wonder what happend to her and her soul

moonlight sea
together we
are captured
by the same
souless night

A confinement to the street,
I likened it to a bliss of pain.
Not extended like an overrun episode,
But the anxiety is sleepless,
When yesterday approaches,
I wrap myself in the ignorance,
Homeless, timeless,
It grows and defines,
Coarses through my fundamental
Lapses,
A boy becomes an atitude,
I wish i had these experiences in youthful insurgencies.

Its someday in the week,
I lose the raptured schedules,
To hunger is life.
To thirst is life.
The misled winter wraps itself
On my frozen life.
A faint emergence of time
Resumes,
There in the shadows
I once knew a man,
The visions of him asking to feed
My souless self.
Stretched by insistent graces,
In a road of certain contrasts,
Gentle into the street,
I laugh; the revolving doors,
I cry; what or who i never was,
A certain kind of grace to be
Within the containment,
the poor, the  restless,
bleeding my facades,
Shredding the faces I once knew
Destroying my world.

Once I sat upon a throne
Lost in the decimations,
I dont know who I am.

Keep walking.
Telling myself as the night freezes
I will be just fine.
Keep walking
Telling myself in minced
Thoughts as hope flutters against
Nowhere to go.
Keep walking,
The sun rises
And blisters on my feet
Calm the night as the safety
Of day lets me rest.

I will bounce back tomorrow,
And the streets become a ripened spring fruit,
Losing myself
And the art of loss
Is no disaster,
Not unlike losing my keys,
Not unlike losing places,
Not unlike losing names,
Until i reconciled myself
At the fork of the river,
Losing myself is not an art:

The beauty was in finding who I was meant to be.

I am darkness
a souless being trapped
within a world of expectations,
where we live for nothing
aside from our need to please
whomever we deem fit to be
worth suffering for.

Death looms around every corner
sneaking and leaking through
the walls and into the cavernous slits
dug deep into the unstable barriers of my
demented, sickened, disturbed mind.

I see nothing but never-ending black space
spanning for miles in every direction
but, sometimes, a flicker of light illuminates
a single line across my path
scratching through the key holes of
the hundred of doors, always locked,
protecting the world from my wrath and
holding me hostage
until Insanity offers its hand
to lead me to my only escape.

She is light
the brightness I've seen so rarely.
Her world, one of complete coherence
where everything serves its destined purpose
a cold world I know not of
but she is always so warm
so happy
and knows nothing of
the torment caused by that
blinding, taunting ray
trespassing into my world
my darkness
my home.

Sometimes, though,
it breeds hope of a better future
where her purity and
my evil nature can collide
morphing into an electrifying New
and it can be ours, together.

Then the beam dissipates
and I am alone,
again
until my nightmares welcome me back
and devour my soul until I drown
in my own destiny.

When you took my own soul from me,
Of course I wasn’t going to be “okay”
You planted me in your rotted heart,
Grew me under artificial light,
Poured vinegar on my stomata for growth,
And ripped out my roots when you’d seen enough.

There.
Lying among the rest of your bouquets.
With screaming petals of
“He loves me, He loves me not”
Pouring out pure life from my stem.
You took my own soul from me,
Of course I wasn’t going to be “okay”

Bullets were made music to their ears
Bad music is all I say
The loud,unrythmic music
That took 142 lives away

Those child were holding a pen
The other party were holding gun
They said "pen is powerful than gun"
There,the lives were gone

Inhumane,
Souless ,
Cruel *******, I would say
Oh ! What have they gave
And what they took away
They might not even have had a dream
That they will become something one day

Numbness everywhere
Background plays Floyd
' The child has grown
The dream is gone......
I have become comfortably numb'

Packed away
fr fr from a speeding bullet
a night time bmx ride to the beach and back again
and again
she's in here
too far too fearless for you to survive this warmth
i'm not souless, just a girl in love
i made me own way here
there is no taxi cab awaiting my drunken ramblin
i am good in bed
i am happy for you
i fell apart a long time ago, ago, ago
i hear YOU scream
i am not that person long ago
you all fell in love with me
and it really it was not me
i decieved you with the cut of my jib
with the line of my skin
deep beauty within
ha hahaha hahahaaaaaa
i will have you
i won't want you
i won't want you
you drunk too much
you take far too much speed to be a queen
la la laaaa la alaaaa
you don't know this but it was not me
whisper me sweet nothings
i've been hurt before,
**** it,
they are nothing compared to you
my bittersweet tears were cried when i left you there
i left myself in your bed
and i knew you would hear me
and dream of me calling your name
i am a pill you hate to swallow
some nidnight ****
you begged and borrowed
to be happy....
are you such a thing?
no methinks not
and you know i know this
and i am in love with you
so deep, so hard i have fallen
2 hours was all it took
2 months was all it took
my world exploded in your hands
you couldn;t handle me
you could not handle this....
i am a cyclone of astute proportions
too much for your shallow heart to bear
and yet i am here
too much far gone
i am her shadow
the beat of her drum
the second glance of her dance moves
she looks at me...
and i can not look away
i knew before i met her
i knew when she got in the car
i knew before i met her
and **** me....
thats all i have to say

A sneaking suspicion of pompous protrution

A glimmering splint of carnivorous contempt

We bleed here for the city that eats us alive
kids with lost souls and fashion beneath which they hide

A souless confusion
puppet masters beyond this illusion

The tables have turned and the kids turn back.
Relying on pineal secretions or atleast drug induced apartheid to set them back on track

A concrete master ruled by rubber slaves so much evidence and yet so little dismay

**** the clock before it clocks you out
Your empty shallow lives only reflecting the smell of sweat your bodies do not wish to confide  
Alone in a plastic prison without a scent of discontent for the blood that stagnates inside

I am embarrassed to say
that I fell head over heels
for a psychopath.
This girl had a smile that melted my heart
and a knife that stabbed me in the back.
She had warm lips that kissed me
And sharp teeth that bit me.

Did I mention that she was nuts?

She was a sociopathic, multible peraonalitied, souless harlot
who ****** out my soul and **** me out.

....but she was pretty though

DECADENCE PERVERSE

July 9, 2003 – Walton on Thames, Surrey

Everyone talks
And experiences
And experiments
And gets confused
Depressed
And anxious

People fearful
With multiple ****** partners
While a baby is alone
Crying nowhere
As people smoke their drugs
And laugh
And they start to go
Nowhere
Some doing business
And living out empty lives

In a souless planet
Christ!
I am really surprised by all of you people
Asking and questioning the same questions
Again and again and more
“Is there life out there?”
“Is there life in this universe?”
“Are we all alone?”
You keep on repeating your questions
And I ask you:
“Is there any life here on earth?”

I see a young girl suffering from torment
And hearing sorrow
Being riddled throughout her fragile mind
Is this, then, your civilization?
People!
You gamblers and prostitutes
Fraudsters and women beaters
Compulsive liars and addicts
Rich criminals, poor criminals
Slithering through your pointless slimy days
That we all know where it’s all ending

Christ!
But one baby’s life
Is never pointless!
I tell you so..

I can smell their cowardly fear
their frantic desperation is palpable
they stink frustration and boiling envy
their lies, scams and foul smears unravelling
coercised crowd seeing them for the scums  they are
they garner contempt hidden for fear of not belonging
a lot afraid to tell them they no longer buy into their mischief
behind their wicked backs the immigrants are disgusted and sick
sick of their characters, their indulgences and their empty arrogance

The immigrants know it's all racist hatred
they now know the poor man did nothing wrong
know how pathetic and sick these wanton devils are
know these spoilt ignorant rabbles are souless juveniles saps
laugh at them behind closed doors amongst themselves silently
while pathetic thieves and dim-wit associates boast of their power
power of cowards and scums and workshy semi-illiterates sad fools
resenting success and hard working people who put in the hard graft
jokers and fantasists too stupid to really see what's happening in light

I really wanna write pretty ****
Like about birds singing at night
or the tired steps of the one Mexican maid
as she passes by my house before and after work

I want to write pretty ****
About my mother’s resilience
Her words of encouragement
And the sound of defeat in her “mijo no tengo ni pa’ la leche”

I want to write pretty ****, academic ****, deep ****,
About beautiful man of color
Trying to be anything but black or brown
Girlfriends claiming their white side
The silencing of accented voices
I am dying to write pretty ****

I want to write about her big *** eyelashes
And her fierce makeup
And how her face was flawless when they found her laying there
In a poodle of blood
Why would anyone **** someone so pretty?
It’s as if they hated pretty ****
Like the color of brown and black skin
And green trees and ****
Why do they like to **** pretty ****?
Like spirituality and native languages?
And they give nobel peace prizes to ****** up institutions with ****** up policies that push people to desperation, bomb them, starve them, and at the end blame them,
They like to blame pretty **** too

I want to write pretty ****
Like waking up to the bright sun
And driving by the day laborers at home depot
Some of them look so hopeful, and some of them so defeated
Some of them sleep beneath the little tree on the parking lot
Why do you illegalize pretty people?

Ain’t freedom pretty and injustice ugly?
Then why don’t we write about justice and ****
About the caribou not having to be fenced
And native land returned to indigenous peoples

Why don’t we claim our inner beauty
And recycle all them ****** up magazines filled with cropped bodies treated as money, souless bodies,
The fashion industry is ugly

And why don’t obama talk about pretty ****
Like reparations and wealth redistribution
And getting rid of Deportations, Deportations that’s some ugly ****

With this life
With this sorrow
With this anger
With this hatred
With this self-pity
Im done with it all

I dont want to live anymore
Nothing left to see
My aching bones
Rusty and crumbling now
Cant your god just let me die
And fade into the background of a fleeting memory

Im done with it all
Tired of trying to please
All these arrogant people
Who continue to think
They know anything about me
But they only know my name

Im done with it all
Trying to acccomplish something
Thats better off as a dream
But whats the point of giving up now
When Im so close to obtaining it
**** it Im done for the last time

You pushed and pushed
I was the one who fell
You werent the one
Trying to face their fears
Standing alone in the middle of a road
Wondering which direction to go

Im done with it all
Sick and tired of waking from nightmares
Wondering if everytime I wake
If its all just a never ending dream
Trying to find something to believe in
Only finding a finger given by the heavens

Im done with it all
Trying to find a place to call home
Only finding an empty house
With people souless and uncaring
Quick to turn thier back
Not even trying to embrace a son

Do you hear me world
Im done trying to please you
Trying to find my place
So Im going to dig my grave
And watch you beg me
Not to end all of this

Watch me now world
Take this dusty 45
And this rusty blade
Curl up at the bottom of a bottle
And live free one last time
Before I bleed this life out

Do you feel like
You would be better off without me
Im done asking unaswerable questions
You wouldnt tell me
Even if you had the answer
So I will say goodnight and goodbye

I wont miss it at all
Hear me now
Under the ringing off a 45
Im done straining my voice
Going horse from over worked muscles
One last time I will say IM DONE!!!!

I have reached a breaking point
that has slowly led every thought of you on to the ground.
My tears have reached onto this paper,
Before this letter surfaced up to the light.

Day by day
This message has become a nightmare
And maybe this will fall onto Depth Ears.
Maybe you'll never read this,
Perhaps you'll never find it.
Maybe one day, you will see
I  was sincere with my words,
spilling them out like  a waterfall.
It's a unwanted power
As if a Queen left golden strands of hair behind.
All these years of assumptions
have become worse
A Gore to bare with.

A Lost color for my soul

                                                BY
                                                    ERS

I dreamt that I'd awoken in my house
But all was not the same, was not as it should
  be
There was a strangeness to things, an
  unfamiliarity
Myself too, I felt different, felt very small like
  a little child (like I'd been shrunk somehow),
Felt very vulnerable and exposed, without
  support, all alone
As I stood there in the hall, the shadows
  falling about me
I could see that it was still dark outside
It was very quiet and there was this big full
  moon shining,
Down by the road, at my gate, I could see that
  there was a car or van parked
As I watched, suddenly I heard the sound of doors opening and then being slammed shut
Then I saw these two dark figures emerging, proceeding up the driveway toward my
  house
A terrible fear gripped me, I felt a great
  danger approaching
These two men, these shadowy figures
They meant no good, of that I was sure
They were unwanted, coming at this crazy
  hour,
Standing there in the shadows, all I knew
  was they mustn't see me
If they saw me I knew I was lost,
It was then that I noticed the inside door, it
  wasn't locked
So I got down and on all fours started to crawl across the floor (so I wouldn't be seen)
But it was hard, so hard, my limbs they were
  so slow, so heavy
They would hardly obey me... I could hardly
  drag
What was wrong... what was wrong with
  me!!! I thought,
Through sheer force of will I finally made it
And reaching my hand up I turned the ****
  that would lock the door
I heaved a sigh of relief and lay back against
  the now locked door
It was only then that I noticed another
  bedroom door was ajar
If they stood outside the bedroom window
  they'd be able to see a bit into the hall
But I realized, it was too late... too late now
They'd probably be at the window by now
And they'd be bound to see me trying to close
  the door
They'd be standing there right now with their
  cold sharp impassive faces
Dripping cruelty and menace
Staring in, souless like mannequins
Their icy looks that'd freeze your soul
Like a Medusa turn you to stone.
So I could only sit there listening...listening
  with my back to the inside door
Afraid almost to breathe
Just listening for the next sound
The next thing to happen.

I tempestously glanced at your
black, cruel soul
where I no longer
found devotion and grace.
You bit your lips with excitement
and pulled me close to you
using a lace.
I thought you were a work
of art but you made
crooked lines appear on my
heart.
You looked at me with lust
in your eyes and I mistook
it for love.
All you ever wanted to do was
set my body on fire using your
lighter and all I ever wanted
was to love each other so
hard that our atoms get blown
in the form of dust back to the
place from where we came.
But you had other filty things
on your mind that made
me wonder if you were
worth my time.
Your hoodie that once smelt
like your cologne started giving
out a foul smell just like your
nasty soul.
Poor you, you thought that I
was devastated when
your mask fell on the ground
but little did you know I had
already detached you from
my body because you had
turned my body into
a souless
vessel.
You thought that you could
design my catastrophe and tear
my skin apart with your envious
words but I was too strong
and determined to be defeated.
I once thought you had a celestial
mind and an angelic heart but
I didn't realize that you were
pouring salt on my cuts.
I am closing this atrocious
chapter forever and turning
the page because it's easier
to let you go than holding
on to you .

Hate so pure it scortches the ground
as I walk this dark, lonely road
The shadows feel my presence
and demons quake at the sight
Satan is to afraid to claim this wretched child
for it it more powerful than he

The Hate is pulsing through my veins
what has humanity done to me
a monster I have become
feared by everyone, wanted by none
forever cursed to walk alone
heartless, souless, I carry on

I am glad you fear me...
I am glad you hate me...
it shows me who I really am
an outcast, a misfit. untrusted, unloved
Only one has shown me kindness
then she to turned and joined the crowd

*A scepticle, they point and they stare,
but afraid they are to meet my gaze.
Am I as vile as they say, a creature so
crule that they fear him more than the
devil himself. the proof is in your faces
and if it is all true, then I am more than
happy to say Welcome To Hell

life

Our death does not crawl
it chases mercilessly
fountain of youth lied

posessions

my fields, my mountains
mine mine mine  See all touch nothing
my souless kingdom

lust

taste won't quench desire
heat stains ***** like red cedar
blood stains innocence

Longing

A rose kissed by dew
Unless living in love's eyes
no life has meaning

Pinnacle

to be the best rose
one must smooth the thorns,stand tall
bloom and block the sun


demented

Dark lips and eyes shine
dark thoughts meld with needs afire
ever in death held.

My heart left my body,

As the axe of anger,

A tool brandished blood red,

Did cut off my head!

It was placed on a table with

writer's ink and paper.

A heartless head

ready to make

hurtful verses.



Words flowed from a place

My heart no longer dwelled.

The axeman tore out my heart with

a ***** fist,

Chucked it onto the stone.

My swollen eyes glanced at the

****** ***** -

Bleeding to death on the floor,

Hearty blood that echoed your name.



Without Heart,

I created words of revenge.

The dark creating spiteful spoken lyrics

Into spiteful words

on paper heading for you.

It had an evil style.

A mocking tone.

My mouth and the floating pen cried-

*******!

While my torn heart raged at its

absurdity.



It was too late.

I was executed as heartless.



Lying near death.

Gentle hands wipe my tears.

A sewer's stich patching up

my mutations.

I am frozen,

Alone in the dark.

A just punishment.

I realise now, the black ink

Was as black as evil itself.

My souless state has turned

Love into Hate.

It has ruined me.



I want to tear out the stitches.

Show the whole world my ******

up mutations!!

I deserve to die.

For I would rather be dead

Than have lost your love.

The loss I caused with my body

that was

without heart.....



**** myself.

I truly did.

I wish I could undo time.

But I am only human.

One who does not fight to keep her heart.

Her soul.

Her memories.

One who turns anger into words.

Words into the end.



Fini

Only a coward hides....
Behind fake bravado.
When his ego subsides,
It's your fault.." His motto.
He reads you like a book.
Remembers every page. Once he's sure you're on the hook,
He'll start to rattle your cage.
He knows which nerve to strike.
He consumes every pain.
Sometimes, he's so lifelike,
you forget he's so insane.
He doesn't even have to try.
It's just the way he is.
At your brain he'll slowly pry.
But he'll never reveal his.  
He's arrogance screaming of entitlement.
He really doesn't consider that bad.
So Don't expect any enlightenment.
Hell, he say its the most fun he's had.
No rest for the wicked he'll say.
And its still your fault he'll insist.
He's been up tweekin a week + a day.
Its pointless to try to resist.

Oh the horrible he stories he will tell about you....
And some will believe his version.
There isn't much you can do.
You can't explain such *******.

All you can do is keep him out of your mind.
Run away & dont ever look back.
Its evil of a whole other kind.
Remember there's something he'll forever lack,
Look hard,  its his soul you'll never find.