paranoiawilldestroy Posted August 27, 2022 Share Posted August 27, 2022 I'm fully awake, and expect things to kick off soon(ish). Everybody’s Preface A child’s giggling brings delights unforeseen, Mysteries, friendship and worry untold, And all uncertainties that lie between, The pains of birth, death, and the common cold. So, on lustrous wings, with joy in your bones, Cascade feathers to shine in every gorge, And bleed rubies to drip down twilight thrones, Deny the blacksmith of your lifetime's forge. Her hot, nibbling teeth belonged to my ear, As she uttered her enthused flirtation, With curls so dark, she released me from fear, Though her roaming eye ordained devastation. Each opening of perception’s doors, Reveals kind demons or an angel’s screams, Forever aim to martyr through your wars, You must live then live, define what I mean. In a grassy meadow there grew a tree, Glistening, still, and lush, though old and bent, Ravaged by the wind, raggedy yet free, Forever the source of its own content. It emits no chuckles, no sylvan games, There is no transgression it can commit, Or experience love’s impassioned flames, Our lifetimes are like diamonds—it exists. The young are defective, imperfect titans, A sadness fuels the hungry fire of youth, For each revelation shall enlighten, For each revelation grants insight and truth. To age is to weather that hurricane, Monotonous, mediocre, and stale, Our youth is where the celebration remains, Though it is your dotage that keeps you hale. Marco Polo I woke upon the sun, posing as a king, I swam the oceans, trailing secret queens, I travelled through malevolent nations, Only I have seen… it is my meaning. I braved thirsty dunes, strumming a broken harp, I tasted dark angels’ tears and drenched my heart, I called on starving lions, roaring aloud, My hungry yearning… It is my meaning. The sparkle in my eyes, I mined from friends, The wounds on my wrists, were exactly incised, I ride on griffins over fields and lakes, It is my meaning… And my life to make. Forgive Me The eyeless beggar’s finger traced my face, His hands divulging an effortless grace, Communing that I should surrender my race, I was too deaf to reply, so disgraced. The scent of her perfume was the portent, That led me to foretell the low event, That his roaming gaze would bring discontent, And now all that we shared I must lament. My incisors stabbed through the stringent skin, I lapped and sucked at the juices within, My heart then stuttered its bombarding din, As the venom inside concluded my sins. Allow, I beg, for this moment to pass, My offences missiles destined to crash, And before the explosion roasts me to ash, For your forgiveness is all that I ask. The Flames Hypnotized, I stare at red, crackling flames, Gazing beyond their ravenous embrace, A world without sordid riches, or fame, I despise this dreary, decadent place. This place: a comedy, a farce, a joke, Grinning skulls decree their greedy notions, As titans strike at indifferent folk, And desire is crowned the queen of emotions. I repress the urge to cremate my phone, To revel as it bursts like a rocket, I never invite salesmen to my home, Yet I cart this prostitute in my pocket. Adverts for merchandise that we all crave, Establishing binding strictures on our thoughts, Entwining our minds, so that we behave, To contemplate only what we have not got. The Battle My battered shield is my onerous shame, A funeral shroud entwined round and round, My thirsty blade is the narcotic blame, That gently devours, drags everyone down. My longing for deliverance sears, it burns, I must escape this desert, this wasteland, Its barren shadows elongate, they worm, Curving maggot fingers in mute command. My goal, to evade this eternal gloom, Out the glimmering gate, so close, in sight, My only egress from this awful tomb, I struggle towards its heavenly light. The guard, he looms, defiant and dark, Unsheathes his sword, an aside with his weapon, A ragged razor, serrated, so stark, It never wavers, until he beckons. I thrust in methodical ferocity, I perforate like a sadistic surgeon, I execute a dream atrocity, Triumphant as a victorious virgin. Whilst I stomp upon his bloody remains, A strange sensation seizes through my hands, Like my fingers are restrained by spectral chains, I freeze, as time dispenses waxen sand. Abruptly still, a statue sealed in hate, I am accursed, for it never occurs, As I forget myself, forget escape, To fling my weapons down and lie in the dust. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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