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"sulphuric" poems
The Yorkshire Rose, elegantly perched on the bridge This was not London, or the palace nor Manchester, where Mancurians are free nor Blackpool, where the beach swallows Glasses, towels, mussels clinging to rocks The Yorkshire rose, drawn upon the bridge Bullet trains, leading distances Almost unfathomable in this very spot Harrogate, bath water Spilling onto the street in natural sulphuric geysers Burning The Yorkshire Rose, fleeting in memory In ghosts of the abbey nearby
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Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
yorkshire
The acrid smell of darkness "Permeates me" I am surrounded by the skies Of hell fire, Brimstone, Sulphuric, Odours Breathed as if air Burning with each inhale, This is a place of eternal penance Why do I sit on a thrown of spines Those around grovel Hungry as if to taste my milk, I look down, hot coals are under foot My thrown room blacker than sin, I am jested towards the window, Torture, Screams, Souls Bound to instruments, some scream in Redemption, why'll others ask for more, Broken, crazy lost souls that once Screamed as the souls now bound to "Smouldering coals" I glance as heavy doors open, Skin, Bone, Muscles Entwined with black stitch No words permitted, As stich tightly woven Upon blooded lips I felt enticed at her vulgerness She approached as if to touch my Hand, I Repelled, Declined, Opposed Her advances, I cut in to her muscle she moaned as if ecstasy, As black droplets burnt upon the floor "She again ushered towards my hand" I let her grip as she cut the Stitches From her bleeding lips, "I smelt her breath" A thousand souls decaying within her, Breath Exhaled,   Putrid, Odour that was irresistible, Lips meet, flesh burnt and the Mists of what was clarity was ushered away, My reaper of souls beauty of the underworld I tasted with that kiss corruption, hatred "He who shall never be named" "At his tricks once again" "I sit o my throne of spines" My horns ignite once more The light that shined briefly now Extinguished, Smothered, Obsolete Feelings from a place one stood upon, "I am that which others need to fear" As all will pay for this "Moment of Clarity"   As I engulf souls, redemption Is for above, below there is just hatred and misery
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Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 9:47 AM UTC
Satan's Moment of Clarity
The acrid smell of darkness "Permeates me" I am surrounded by the skies Of hell fire, Brimstone, Sulphuric, Odours Breathed as if air Burning with each inhale, This is a place of eternal penance Why do I sit on a thrown of spines Those around grovel Hungry as if to taste my milk, I look down, hot coals are under foot My thrown room blacker than sin, I am jested towards the window, Torture, Screams, Souls Bound to instruments, some scream in Redemption, why'll others ask for more, Broken, crazy lost souls that once Screamed as the souls now bound to "Smouldering coals" I glance as heavy doors open, Skin, Bone, Muscles Entwined with black stitch No words permitted, As stich tightly woven Upon blooded lips I felt enticed at her vulgerness She approached as if to touch my Hand, I Repelled, Declined, Opposed Her advances, I cut in to her muscle she moaned as if ecstasy, As black droplets burnt upon the floor "She again ushered towards my hand" I let her grip as she cut the Stitches From her bleeding lips, "I smelt her breath" A thousand souls decaying within her, Breath Exhaled,   Putrid, Odour that was irresistible, Lips meet, flesh burnt and the Mists of what was clarity was ushered away, My reaper of souls beauty of the underworld I tasted with that kiss corruption, hatred "He who shall never be named" "At his tricks once again" "I sit o my throne of spines" My horns ignite once more The light that shined briefly now Extinguished, Smothered, Obsolete Feelings from a place one stood upon, "I am that which others need to fear" As all will pay for this "Moment of Clarity"   As I engulf souls, redemption Is for above, below there is just hatred and misery
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68
She was as crazy as a Norse horse with a wild bleached mane and madeyes, always willin to do anythin for ya with a ''come on then'' her moods would drive you insane, wrenching compassion and anger from your heart in equal parts, spewing venom when talking of her ma, it would hurt to listen,  yet it was easy to see this sulphuric froth as just rage being rage. In her kitchen she concocted over spilling potions banana and coconut breads, her time was your time, her table always spread, with baskets and jars, Valerian by the bottle she sculled to help sleep, baskets with moss and golf ***** Scottish tat in a heap and beliefs, worn and threadbare like the carpets in her tiny,  orange doored flat with a gerbil called ***** and a hamster called pat, and dear wee Jamie who spouted that Halloween mantra ''crap bat'' we filled and hung balloons with sweets and let the kids skewer the hell out of them, it rained chocolate in the corridor for weeks, and that is what I loved about her madness, is that it dived and it did, and it speaked
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Mar 18, 2011
Mar 18, 2011 at 7:06 PM UTC
Allie
Harboring suspicions from blinded eyes, Acid gurgles under sugary lies. The stranger swaying dementedly to and fro, On rocking chair thoughts, their mind on show. How should you react when a dagger is drawn, Neutral, or reveal a suspicion is born. Eyeing the ranks of human heads, Thoughts emerging from crumpled beds. As you cannot see the source of the shot in the dark, So you only hear the tune of the singing lark. Consipiracy theories, click codes on the mouse, As the snake coils into the empty house. In an unreal life, nothing recognised, A stranger lies, looking into a stranger’s eyes. Steadily repeated stabs of deceptions, From foundations, of fallacious conceptions. Locked in a make believe play of doubt, Interrogate the evidence, turn inside out. Within delusory ink and pens that bite. Making sulphuric phrases into tools of spite. Elvis on the radio confirming your thought, Suspicion in a tormented trap you are caught. Eliminate subject and object, unravel the day Anchor to a certainty and then drift away For it has always been and will always be so, A blind thought will return to the house of shadow.
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 6:30 AM UTC
Suspicion
The darkness it burnt upon my Angel wings, they wilted, with Each moment of this forsaken Place, my soft skin did  haemorrhage Tainted with each breath every Movement that I crawled upon This acidic land corroded my light . My white turned yellow, changed From pure to black, I was in agony As that which was white should Never be turned to that. I was Winged, not able to give motion To the air, I was a ground dweller As if wings were a weight a persecution To the time of air, now dragging like A weight a conscience upon my back. I must have walked upon this scared Land, I must have moved these once Pure now tainted as dragged like sin Behind my back. I was before I fell, I contemplated That which I had been and that Which this land whispered to me Become. The light was dulled, smothered Like a wet blanket over a fire, Suffocated What burnt bright, now I was being Extinguished my dulled light. I remembered I fell and my skin smelt Sulphuric with a hint of light, I knew I had bleed hatred behind me, I knew That I had been left, abandoned to this Isolation. My wings had regained there Imagery, they were like crows feathers Pure, dark, black as night. I despised  those above, their light, ignited Hatred, deep within where something that Beat but know was just black, I launched Upon the breeze to take me vengeance Upon that purity that  glided, flowed. I am that which will take those of higher morals and bring them to the place of Solitude, of loneliness, they will remember The pain of those they had been left in the Darkness,  For light can only last so Long before it becomes what was before.
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Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
Fallen Below The Light
The darkness it burnt upon my Angel wings, they wilted, with Each moment of this forsaken Place, my soft skin did  haemorrhage Tainted with each breath every Movement that I crawled upon This acidic land corroded my light . My white turned yellow, changed From pure to black, I was in agony As that which was white should Never be turned to that. I was Winged, not able to give motion To the air, I was a ground dweller As if wings were a weight a persecution To the time of air, now dragging like A weight a conscience upon my back. I must have walked upon this scared Land, I must have moved these once Pure now tainted as dragged like sin Behind my back. I was before I fell, I contemplated That which I had been and that Which this land whispered to me Become. The light was dulled, smothered Like a wet blanket over a fire, Suffocated What burnt bright, now I was being Extinguished my dulled light. I remembered I fell and my skin smelt Sulphuric with a hint of light, I knew I had bleed hatred behind me, I knew That I had been left, abandoned to this Isolation. My wings had regained there Imagery, they were like crows feathers Pure, dark, black as night. I despised  those above, their light, ignited Hatred, deep within where something that Beat but know was just black, I launched Upon the breeze to take me vengeance Upon that purity that  glided, flowed. I am that which will take those of higher morals and bring them to the place of Solitude, of loneliness, they will remember The pain of those they had been left in the Darkness,  For light can only last so Long before it becomes what was before.
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45
Ugly and repulsive nek twisted backwards facing forward my path twisted raining sulphuric acid looking up eyes and mouth wide open I'm thirsty.. taken drugs crack, **** krokodile the rain biting through my bones necrosis from the drugs have made their way home. tongue kissed a komodo dragon wearing a boa constrictor for a scarf parasites eating away at my innards so I don't have to **** and Imma just go on floor made purely out of bullet ants keep walking this path of insanity
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Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
The Yellow Brick Road
I would make an attempt at reaching Hell one morning , I shall return with an omen or some type of sign . Search for the infamous Lake of Fire , the Prince of Darkness himself or demons flying about ! The Sulphuric Abyss of Christian fable , Kingdom of Hades as told by the ancients ! A gold piece placed in mouth to pay the oarsman , skipped across the River Styx without fear of retribution ! I dare any demon to replicate the horror of Vietnam or Afghanistan , Iwo Jima , Gettysburg or **** of Nanking ! Walk in the shoes of the Veteran that witnessed Omaha , Utah and Normandy Beach ! The Underworld is not for physical torment nor payment for Earthly sin ! Hell is the black hole of space , swallowing souls , returned to mans past , reliving the atrocity of war forever and a day !
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Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Hell Defined
I will never be the same again. But truly who ever was I? The foundation never formed, All there ever was – is mourning. Died then revived. Died and revived once again. Continuously digging myself up from the grave. A wraith amongst the dead, I cannot rest because I have never truly lived. Necromancy upon my soul, A constant yearning to finally be whole. A body covered in dirt and scars. Yet I am determined to make it beautiful. A heart full of spite, yet bursting with love. An incautious desire to one day be enough. I refuse to rest until I experience what real, safe human touch feels like. Place a hand upon my sulphuric body. I was once so afraid but now I am begging. Please take it away, please tell me I am not ***** I suppressed it all but now I'm overflowing. I care not who you are, please just love me. Lay me down amongst the green. Put all your limbs on top of me. Make imprints upon this rotten flesh, until I can finally feel clean. A body barren and hollow, A body that only knows shame. My bones are coated in it, Words spewing it, Tears pouring with it. All I am is shame. She used to smile so innocently when she was young. With a laugh like a howling winds great bellow. She would fantasise about her first love, I let her down. Now I am screaming, snarling, spitting. Resenting a world that I was foolish to trust. Drive a stake through my heart, I ask of you to wish me peaceful rest. Hopefully this time I will not rise again. Banished.
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Jun 7, 2023
Jun 7, 2023 at 4:43 PM UTC
Wraith
Andesitic magma was leaching from a tectonic collision deep below and burned itself out on the side of a newly formed rend in the landscape A languid lava flow both ruthless and viscous pyroclastic madness settled in a cooling atmosphere forming ash and raining tephra which fell quietly to earth to suffocate the burning and everything else. under ash clouds under grey powder and stillness no movement can be made. Each breathe is sulphuric but the burning goes on
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Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 6:33 PM UTC
Pyroclastic madness
That wicked naughty little girl. She's bouncing on the bed. Her footwear's rather sticky. As it is a lava bed. Her boots are breached by temperature. Pooh,sulphuric smelly feet. Cook yourself roast chicken. A really stinky treat. (C) Livvi
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Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
Walking in strange places.
I wish I wasn't so crooked Jumping and leaping over things And keeping secrets to my dark heart I wish I wasn't so flaccid I feel sulphuric acid In my throat I close my eyes and I see photos of burn victims Clinging to their only infant children as they gasp for air, they are riddled with confusion Unfortunate life. I am my own baby, I cling to my ****** as if it is some product of the demon.
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Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 5:28 PM UTC
III
Follow the invious paths of my mind Overshadowed by oaks of insecurity Step not into shadow's darkness For those paths are still unchartered Go by the grace of your God Pray your protection be withstanding What lies ahead may be disturbing Should you quench your desire To probe further Let me offer a standardized warning "Contents may be unsuitable to some viewers." With all your senses Placed on high alert Stay on the paving stones! Enter knowing you have been warned! High pitched screams of despair Flow through the air like wingless birds While the pave stones float in a thick river of blood Deformed anomalies of bodies parade in fields of dying brown grass Playing instruments to the tune of the screaming Mixed breed animals devour one another Between minutes of giving birth Washing down their meal by sipping at the river Thunder roars intermittently As lightning strikes unsuspecting souls Leaving charred, black, smoldering zombies roaming This infinite land A drawn out cackling of a deranged hyena hybrid Splits the air and is heard over the thunder and screams Resonating over and over again upon straining ears As he sits and looks up at a blood red moon The aroma of half eaten carcasses Acrid and powerful causing eyes to tear And nose to burn as if dipped in sulphuric acid Creating the feel of skin peeling off flesh As the cool wind causes irritation To exposed flesh, you scratch and rub Vigorously rubbing away your existence Until you no longer think of staying on the path Stumbling, agitated, confused and unwillingly Into the fields, tripping over bony remains Of explorers before you
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Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 1:58 PM UTC
A Warning To The Mind Reader
Follow the invious paths of my mind Overshadowed by oaks of insecurity Step not into shadow's darkness For those paths are still unchartered Go by the grace of your God Pray your protection be withstanding What lies ahead may be disturbing Should you quench your desire To probe further Let me offer a standardized warning "Contents may be unsuitable to some viewers." With all your senses Placed on high alert Stay on the paving stones! Enter knowing you have been warned! High pitched screams of despair Flow through the air like wingless birds While the pave stones float in a thick river of blood Deformed anomalies of bodies parade in fields of dying brown grass Playing instruments to the tune of the screaming Mixed breed animals devour one another Between minutes of giving birth Washing down their meal by sipping at the river Thunder roars intermittently As lightning strikes unsuspecting souls Leaving charred, black, smoldering zombies roaming This infinite land A drawn out cackling of a deranged hyena hybrid Splits the air and is heard over the thunder and screams Resonating over and over again upon straining ears As he sits and looks up at a blood red moon The aroma of half eaten carcasses Acrid and powerful causing eyes to tear And nose to burn as if dipped in sulphuric acid Creating the feel of skin peeling off flesh As the cool wind causes irritation To exposed flesh, you scratch and rub Vigorously rubbing away your existence Until you no longer think of staying on the path Stumbling, agitated, confused and unwillingly Into the fields, tripping over bony remains Of explorers before you
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42
1. Moon multiplied in panes of haunted glass Renewed in rains long overdue of pink, peach and white. Fragments floating in turbulent concrete towers Reducing the million technicolour thoughts to dust. 2. Blue and white limbs titillating upon destruction Of the stark grey self succumbing to denegration. The grandeur is singing as we unlock The catatonic mistake that we have yet to make. 3. Destroying what we had known before the field Caught fire in oceans contained within. Her single, sulphuric transparencies. Lie down to rest in remnants of a world refracted in The artificial sunlight crying hymns of fabrication. Misplaced curiosity in solitary places, Where forlorn cubes eat darkness like ghosts Graciously accepting fruit in exchange for a wandering eon.
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Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 7:10 PM UTC
Consumptions
with citation of Aeschylus, when Clytemnestra's ghost enters Apollo's temple seeing himself slain among the gorgons, wingless congregation, the effort of matricide with hands washed in menthol rather than water... with citation of Eumindes everyone might unearth a pyramid of giza as source of just divine intervention, with zeus and the sphinx (riddle-hound of wisdom), hades and the cerberus (shadow-grasp of a snail's heaving hour).... because who'd wish to encourage congregations of necrophilia accepted with over-towering spectacles of ******* rectangles high up to count 100 levels with only one room a burial chamber later blinded to provoke squirting sulphuric toads into motion? as asked: where are the sneezing beasts of gesundheit applaud that might encourage rather than prove to be a Pharaoh's cursing? i mean, i might just be a tourist rather than an archaeologist, yawning admiring chiselled marble into picasso shapes... and i might not be a grave-digger, but then why leave a dead body with so much treasure worthy of defending as if you were living?
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Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 11:25 PM UTC
with citation of Aeschylus gesundheit
The honeysuckle regimented like  battalions of soldiers its scent carried  by the  wind's discretion, white flicks of impervious  cinder, a burning season whose sulphuric  palace left  no doubt the  high church of summer was descending, envisaged russett on one hand muddy grey like a chagrin, come to soon the expiration.
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Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
Palpable Summer
His name was Natas and he drove the Uni-Link. Keen occupation. For a hellish dude. He didn't wear any aftershave, with even a slight sulphuric twang. He wore a bristling beard, that just covered up his pointed chin. This bus driver. Pleasant looking chap. Was he really the bringer of mortal sin? Really the bus driver this Saturday morn. He smiled at the ladies. Flat cap perched on his head. It covers up his mini horns. He was driving the ten thirty from Swaythling. Off to town we go. Hi ** He drove safely and sensibly. Got me to my stop. My destination wasn't hell. Neither was his today. (c)Livvi
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Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
BUS DRIVER
The bile and blame, this sorry game Is all that infects my weary eyes They shed fears in sulphuric tears That sing of too many long goodbyes Feeding you dirt to watch you squirt Plaguing this disease-infested earth Your mind's askew, the best part of you Dripped down your mother's leg at birth You play, you lie; I choke, I die On the dream I've nurtured all my life Karma failed but you'll die impaled One day upon my hate-encrusted knife
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Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
Bile and Blame
Enigmatic and sulphuric wonders and detouring , outside the box alluring tempter of faint touches skip the lust head to lunches dip in the basket dreams collide. they have to! BUT THEY NEVER STAY THE SAME same vibe tho He lost illusions delusions and i lost the shy veneer of freelance escort some may call - but if you knew me as well as he does then you know that lovers are lovers , and friends are friends - do everything with your heart and it’ll ring true in the end.
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Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 8:37 AM UTC
ACT 2:
Accumulating Andromeda to pass the last man standing, the acropolis is waiting and Adelphi knows **** all. I have read the signs in tea leaves leaving me the poorer for it and had to sit through countless lectures which was the price I had to pay. Blood drains freely flowing from me as the state ***** greedily at the remnants of a country and what this boy used to be, but it's nonsense to despair because there no one there and if there was they wouldn't fuckin' care they're in their own lair of pain. All the same I'm still assimilating information and it's grating on my nerves.
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Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 6:34 AM UTC
Sulphuric showers
Corroded glares emaciate the surroundings, all that was is now woven in despair. The sadness enveloped in tired souls painting around this tide of decaying vision. But within this sulphuric black look, suffocating any emotion looking within. *"Beauty is a corruption,                           of our egos,*
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Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
Sulphuric Glares
To you, I would write a thousand words but nothing as sweet as I do. You inspire me to think of a love, so elevated it shakes the core, of my very soul, which will be yours eternally. Bound with chains, you tear the very essence of what is me and replace them with kisses, that burn sulphuric on the end of every nerve. The pleasure of pain, my sacrifice I give to you all I can, from which a new woman was formed by a new man. I would thee bare a thousand kin and live eternal within our skin.
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Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 9:57 AM UTC
I do
Back again.. at the place furthest from home. This black pit of complete darkness.. Filled with an unknown colour of poisonous smoke. Slowly but surely smothering me the Hands of Lonineless gripping tighter around my throat My heart weighs heavy.. pumping liquid lead, methane and deuterum oxide through my body, numbing it, damaged beyond repair. My body feels cold, sweating sulphuric tears tearing away my smile from my face as I laugh in despair. Eyes widened high from the pain and toxins. Grab the knife and slice it in my chest but all attempts are in vain to carve out my sick heart. My heart feels like it's stuck in Pandora's Box destroyed by Seven Plagues. The Noose of Life, looks more tempting with each passing day. This open exit looks very inviting. To feel the texture of the rope hang around my neck Death's scythe standing by ready to collect My numbed and tortured soul Sick in this pit I try to make the best of it.. I'll call this place my home..
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
New Home
I want to go to bed but my daughter is in the bath again; we're gonna have to pay on a meter soon, (it seems it's a privilege not a right), so I wonder how much all those drops will cost, I'll just have to cough up, baths are an essential of a girl's life and I couldn't stand the whining if I said it's showers from now on; I don't get baths, immersed in hot water, gradually turning cold, swimming in all your own sweat, (human soup), "They help you relax" she says, RELAX! she's not the one paying the bills, stressing over where the next meal is coming from; all I'd think of is the things I could be doing instead of wallowing, old people die in baths, some even drown in them, some husbands take a bath with an electrical appliance (plugged in, courtesy of the wife), John Haigh dissolved his victims in the bath in sulphuric acid, showers every time for me, wash away the dirt down the drain, with all the stress of the day; bath bombs, what's that about, not some sort of terrorist threat, it's smelly stuff that sort of explodes when put in water, impregnating the skin with smells and potions, (human potpourri), I just want to go to bed, I'm tired and have work tomorrow, what the **** does she do in there for hours on end.
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Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 2:30 PM UTC
Bath
In countless states of mind I have sought your indulgence ... Supplications before all others , therefore this graphic acknowledgement before The Keeper of Jahaanam . Barren dogwoods stand guard at the gravel trail , my altruistic reservations , mindful of winged demons along the way .. Twilights confusion seeking redress , placate mortal dishonor before all men , lead my staff into solace , repair a broken mans sinful impropriety , sanctity of numerous hardscrabble days , are hast thou forgotten ? The vilification of fools , fable before kings , a rivers confluence and ablution along granite enclosure ? A deployment of demons creep o'er the mount soldier , merciless and begging , damnable .. Unforgiving .. Pandemonium reeks of sulphuric intimidation , Hades treads his kingdom cunningly .. Radiative embers flow into pools of methane , all manner of lunacy and devils at his feet , corruption billowing from his every breath ... Archangels deploy at the portal , even cries for mercy are not allowed their freedom and salvation . As seven days go by even as the downward spiral grows before my very eyes  ,  Beelzebub's confusion laid before me ! Please charlatan my ****** hands will not come clean so allow me the time to relay the sentiments that keep me awake at the midnight hour , when chariots flys overhead at great speed and the dogs inch closer to my bedside , my disease , it's breaking my heart rendering my soul defiled .. My ***** stained linen , unshaven idiot that I've become with rotted teeth and insecurity . I see the smiles , hear the snickers and read the whims of Satan's entities that stand inside my mirror on a meeting by chance held by one hand while slicing at my wrist with the other.. I feel you Lucifer so my fate you seal .  I hear you Jesus an know the burden you deal ! They call him the lighthouse so make my supplication you ******* child of darkness that quivers long into the night in self induced agony ....!
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Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC
Nightmare
In countless states of mind I have sought your indulgence ... Supplications before all others , therefore this graphic acknowledgement before The Keeper of Jahaanam . Barren dogwoods stand guard at the gravel trail , my altruistic reservations , mindful of winged demons along the way .. Twilights confusion seeking redress , placate mortal dishonor before all men , lead my staff into solace , repair a broken mans sinful impropriety , sanctity of numerous hardscrabble days , are hast thou forgotten ? The vilification of fools , fable before kings , a rivers confluence and ablution along granite enclosure ? A deployment of demons creep o'er the mount soldier , merciless and begging , damnable .. Unforgiving .. Pandemonium reeks of sulphuric intimidation , Hades treads his kingdom cunningly .. Radiative embers flow into pools of methane , all manner of lunacy and devils at his feet , corruption billowing from his every breath ... Archangels deploy at the portal , even cries for mercy are not allowed their freedom and salvation . As seven days go by even as the downward spiral grows before my very eyes  ,  Beelzebub's confusion laid before me ! Please charlatan my ****** hands will not come clean so allow me the time to relay the sentiments that keep me awake at the midnight hour , when chariots flys overhead at great speed and the dogs inch closer to my bedside , my disease , it's breaking my heart rendering my soul defiled .. My ***** stained linen , unshaven idiot that I've become with rotted teeth and insecurity . I see the smiles , hear the snickers and read the whims of Satan's entities that stand inside my mirror on a meeting by chance held by one hand while slicing at my wrist with the other.. I feel you Lucifer so my fate you seal .  I hear you Jesus an know the burden you deal ! They call him the lighthouse so make my supplication you ******* child of darkness that quivers long into the night in self induced agony ....!
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8
Sacrificing All that I have Just so I can please you It's not healthy... It's not THAT bad Hand-made torture I go through Isn't it blinding? The pain, it hurts much Psychotic and frightened- Man, this is so sad Like sulphuric acid Not the best to touch The question that's biting is Are all my goods bad? Are all my goods bad? Are ALL my goods bad? All this mental dieing... The life I'll never have. Are ALL my goods bad? Are ALL my goods BAD? Believe me, I'm TRYING, But my sanity's tad.
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Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC
Goods Bad