Dead Dreams IIAn emptiness that eatsNothing is left for the fruitfulness of our bondsTogether we hold stillBut apart we break into shattered pieces of our pasts.Why is an onslaught of misdemeanored causes.No one's will is enough to wretch us freeForsaken and tainted we standOur fingers interlocked in a dance of subtlety
Dead Dreams ITick tick tick goes the bombDead dead dead goes its inhabitants.Bye to our livesHello to our endsWishful thoughts mean more than airBut our breaths cannot grasp our needsForever fallen here we land in our falls.
Death of My RitualPray, just pray a day once moreThe faith of our father's will keep us dear.A silence of love shall dream anewAs the pilgrimage of children laugh till dawn.The words are meaningless if the letter is oldFor the need of the ancients have come to pass.
Come of AgeThe dance of the abdominals ends in tragedyAs leaves of the foliage come to pass.Come the end of constellations undoneAnd still see you not.The mentions of entries are here to stay.If only our hearts could be swayed that way.Feet of fallen create the pyreAs the ashes of tears hold those truths.
My Weak TruthI can't save youAll of you out thereCan't become the chosenNot even if I cared.My faults may bury meMy fears bring on my deathAnd my heart threatens to pauseIn a swift suicideAs my mind wraps itself in a twist.The paper in my pocketStalling the truth that shall come.The sleepless come welcomedAnd the dawning forgottenfor shadows are rememberedAnd the light turned off.I can't bring myself to care anymoreIt keeps tearing me apart.
Lost SelfHere comes my memoryI lost it long agoLocked within the raindropsbleeding from the sky.Broken came the piecesdropped without regretScreaming for the recognitionof the greedy blind.Falling toward the centershaping what can beonly to ignore it allAs the freedom fails to ringinside my lifeless heart.
I Tell You NotPlace me in a cornerand leave me here to dieMy suicidal triviahas succumbed into my mind.Unlike your washy processI always get it rightFollowing through this nightmareof justice served real colda wonderland of echoesof a land forever grandwith an outdated legendBringing forth the lies.cuz if I were to tell youthe truth of which I knowThen I'd have to kill youSo they can still ignore meUpon this empty cornerof which I make my home.
Letter To Myself As YouHi…How Are You?I'm…well I don't exist.So I guess that meansI can't really say I'm fine.It I did, I'm sure I would be.Fine that is. Then againConsidering that I don't existYet I'm here "talking" to youMeans I'm a figment of yourImagination. That is…well thatMeans…that you are indeedInsane. I'm sorry, it mustBe hard for you to understand.I'm sure if you check your pocketYou'll find that slip of paper I gaveYou. You know which one.The one to remind you that you are saneWhile you're insane. Check I assure youIt's there. I lie not. You found itDidn't you. Heh I knew you would.After all your mind is gone. HowElse would I be able to placeThat scrap of paper in your pocket?I'm bored now. I find your lack ofA clear mind bothersome. Your denialSuffocates me. After all you fellInto society's open arms. What didYou expect to have happen to you?To go there is to say farewellto yourself. The you in your mind.The one you who holds the doorAnd knows when to sc
Slumbering DoorwaysI do not think I shall find sleep tonightIt does not call upon my door this nightNot a single knock or turn of the knobOf this sleep, I was surely robbed.Begainst the malice of this deedJust a single night's sleep is what I needYet mocked I am again this nightTo forfeit my sleep untingled without fright.My eyelids unweighed, too shallow to sinkFor they continue to gaze unable to blinkForever in my slumber shall be forgottenAs I lay in my bed unsettled & darkenedListening to the whispers that call in my wakeI settle in this darkness of which I forsakeMy lust for this dream of which cannot beThe day that the door comes knocking for me.
BoredomMy life is a choreThere's no joyOr happinessOnly boredomAnd frustrationI'm just livingFor the sake of itWith no objectiveWith no purposeOnly killing timeUntil the day I die
(aftermathematics)with passing timeand spending dimesi've got(ten) precious,precocious all metallicand isolated behind alloysor bars; ally, lie,calculate the dreamscapesjust so.thought currencysells in idle transactions;idyllic complexities that dance,sparkling treasuresg(r)asping in claspedhands curling together,a stutter at the slightestmovement.i've got a diamond-like mindset,all wildfire kaleidoscopes;but you're offeringno more than penniesthat clatter in the b(l)anks.
Blind and lostI open my eyesBut I can't see a thingNot in all the fogThat clouds this worldA fog we can't clearIt doesn't go awayAnd so we wanderTrying to find our wayFinding only trapsAnd dead endsUntil we collapseAnd dieSomewhere in this mazeCalled life
sphinxamaniai.in this dawnlightyou will let himlinger,strung outand more muddledthan last night'sinvitation.the dry chokeof his slumbering throatwill be the anthemof your morning routine:wake first,test the depth of his sleep,softly gather all articlesand effects,step wraithlyover piles of clothingand passed-out bones,and if possible lock the doorbehind you.ii.let noonflood over youlike absolving showerswith the heattoo high.stare at the sunand burn out last night's imagecompletely,and never again rememberhis "discreet" voice.soon, love, the marksof his teethwill fadeand his namedissolvewith the daylight.iii.you are an islein the pale and ficklelight of the moon.every soultrying to kiss your shoresis surethat they will be the firstto survivethe trip.but love, their veinsare not preparedto rip.
the rise and fall of the fermionic empirei.you roll your limbsin odd circles,frontways and backbefore timecould.tracing the spiritof cosmic gestureswith the careof saintsas your figuressum tonil.known to themaps of thescoped, butnot shownto count.ii.you've attunedyour movementsto this earthbound opus.taming this sphere,its siltand swayclearly beloved.no one meantfor your plansto set sighton this crown.iii.you turn, limber aswillows kept dearby circlet breeze,and claim.taking these pearlsfrom the swingof fluxand setting themin gold dustdrowned fabrics.only oncehave your handslet their potioncloud.iv.your rule,in osprey swoopand brokebeak mons,stirs gamma-pierced wingsto grasp heirsby the throat.tracking the spearsas they slitpurple robesand spill.open upyour potentcourt.
a year elsewhere (wont to)when you dragyour anklesinked across the pageand sign, desperatefor contactremember starsetsare not fixedand darling expanses shiftquite subtle in temporalwaltzes. every objectobserved started elsewhereand hardlysettles now. swearinga vow on the inertiaicequatesfranklyto madness.
i broke the sky to make youand every time i dust your hipswith my aspirations,i hear her weepinstead.
Warm Hands, Cold HeartSleep with me.Our bodies woven like scarves too warm for autumn breezes.Caught up in a winter romance.I'd have let your hands slip beneath my shirt just to feel the warmth of my skin against your icy callouses.Of course we'd only lie there in each other's company, letting our hands intertwine, knitting scarves more suitable for autumn days.Peeling dried skin from our frail frames overtly aware that we'd been peeling away the walls between us.And I'd have let you knock them down.The walls, the scarves, the autumn, the winter days in your arms. Gone.Heaving and cursing you'd take your pickaxe words and drive a hole straight through the icy heart of me andI would shatter.Cradling your words like I'm handling a baby crying, I'm dying, under the pressure of the water building up.Flooding.Enigmas drowning.Enlightenment just too easy to catch on your line, throw me alifeline because I can't swim.I'm caught up in yourNets.Give me your hand and we'llSink together into our wove
pyrogasmshe quiet twisted in amberand slight accent,dashing after all mannerof spritely passion.defiant, her dancingstruck the chords of the jealous.she was a nebulouswonder, a sleet form,the rumble of thunderon the horizon.despising the norm,she took refugein storm, sea agitated,and destructive event;patroness of armageddoninsofar as it mitigatedher pent-up patterns.flattering every sinshe entertained,tattoos and havoclet slip.in the drain,shatters ofa visage once darlingnow spentlike last week's payand duelike rentand whocan pick up these shards?her scarves are rippedand her pricked-up-by-liquidears, pierced invictus,seared by the jeersof those licked chops.fidgeting awkwardin the opposite alleyway,she primes her dissuasionand talks in clippedbangs.and when the smoke clearsthey are leftin flames.
InsideI'm living in a coward's worldDying from a dream I cannot reach.Too weak to strive to beI slowly fall into the webOf tangled truths and usurped eyesTrying to break the wallThat I built too youngUnable to find my will.