Lives and Leftovers

When the proximity is through,
Creeping along the syllables of seclusion,
When fables bear the blasphemies,
A memoir bleeding the words,
Limits unsur'mounted and the lies,
Seeking a soul,
Refuting realities,
And the solitudes tell the stories,
Shed the tears now princess,
The forsaken ones never care,
Winds when carried the rhythm to make you sing,
Did you care…?
Did you know?
Lives thrived on leftovers left by you.

The Day That Never Comes

Tomorrow I’ll feel the warmth,
Tomorrow I’ll dream,
Walk a straight line,
Answer myself,
Tomorrow I’ll untie me.
Pulling from Gorgoroth,
Facing avalanches of screams,
Burn the parchments of elegies,
Slaying the demons,
I will escape the cursed proximity.
To face, to live, to the uncertainty,
I’ll play the damned again,
Re-enact the part raped from me,
“Encore!”
“Encore!”
“Encore!”
I can’t sleep again to dream…
My apologies,
Tomorrow I’m not free.

Sacrifice

Unfurled wings for years,
Unfaithful unfurled wings…chained to the bones,
Unsaid, dreaded, caged in pretence of a glee,
Alongside life is the una’ttuned me.
Face the words unsurmounted and don’t cry,
Oh the joys, oh the ravaging smile,
Let the smile pervade in my denial,
I cut me in half hereby…

Awaiting Burns

Drink my darling pyromaniac,
Satiate your rambunctious thirst,
Then burn…burn me tonight…
Riddles come forth, nay I won’t deny,
Cackles behind the flames,
Where’s your Omega?
Till when do the blasphemies last?
Breathe the smoke my darling pyromaniac,
Char my soul with crimson fire,
Unleash conflagration tonight…
Don’t diminish that crow’s might.
Drink blackened blood pouring from that heart,
And as you return to the light,
Behold the mockery my darling pyromaniac,
My burnt corpse will await for another eternity,
To savor again your insatiable inferno’s plight…

Quoth the Quill

Quoth the tiny quill,
A telltale rogue,
Quoth he an iconoclast scourge
Roving a Rubicon,
Beheld they the scribe-
Draining squalid morass ink,
Their vestal thoughts flout,
A deformed unreality…
On dits pervade of the disparaged me.
But the scribe and the revered rose,
Undead in love’s scarlet,
Alive in its elegy,
Ravage thousand year’s reveries,
Quoth my quill now and rend,
Cohort’s trance inane…
For years, decades, centuries…

The Nocturnal Nymph

In stupor of wasted times,
Filthy ruminations past,
I shudder at the sight…
Eyes when shriek carmine…
Numinous silhouette of a nymph horrified,
Drifting sands turn lead and the footsteps slide,
Sweeps her dress darker than the chasms,
In my dreams truces she with devils,
Psychotic nightmares her fortress,
She howls a familiar name,
Lives off a conspiracy of the dismembered wombs…
…Or hers is a vile masquerade... (?)
Snatched as oceans calm,
Confiscated with my feelings deaf and dumb,
Slithering tears,
Creeping fears,
Scattered through a shattered conscience,
Senses whispers and whisperers thronged,
Seeking her wan lip’s livid curl,
I dream amok,
Suddenly the dark is oblivion,
My eyes wide open in the morn,
They’ll bleed again the coming night…

Paranoia

So long a sojourn,
The night decapitated and old,
I stand still so wrong,
Enshrouded for long,
With the bygone,
Paranoia in disdain or angst,
For grazing scars post Camelot,
Is it still the sorrow?
To ask, to answer,
Unprepared…
Forsook a sacrifice and what they pray,
All in a coma or am I still the slave,
In her dreams or mine…
So long a sojourn,
My road is fading away…