another unwantedby the light of a dying dayi retreatas unhappily as my heart could beat,as breaths could sing,Did I ever choose?I think not.just give a hushed "oh well."seal it with am a gic s p ell,you're justANOTHERt a l e totell?
Do YouRestlessness Thy eyes see no polished diamondJust thy swollen fallacies
IllusionIridescent illusions fleeting across a crumbling path,as trembling hands sewwhat is left ofa lovely visage.Imminent disastersthat send the worldfalling to its knees,as the backdrop of the universebends against the willof its god,and the fear-stricken childrenof this realm are demolishedupon swimming in never-ending flowsof hate and ignorance.Open your eyes,all that seems to be beneficialto your rotting human existence,will drain you of your will to live.Your body, like the discards of a dull recordon a lifeless day,will be disposed oflike the waste of flesh that it is.
WaitI have to take a second look,delve into the past that has shaped the sufferings of my mind,I stepped on the shards of the mirror,my blood covers the floor.I realize that I am barefoot, that I am not breathing.Who is this?A scar sits upon my chest, from where I attemptedto pierce my lungs,but the few tears I criedwere those of happiness.What have I become?I am confused,all the papers have been scattered, and I searchfor the one that bears the truth,as soon as the building is set to flames.I inhale the smoke.Too familiar of a feeling.
HazinessHaziness of the lights, blurred visionbreath shortened to weak rasps,hands frail, the weapon is dropped,and into the room the rest run.Faces looming above, they stare you down,eyes filled with fight, tears falling,cries echoing,echoing,echoing in the chambers of my mind.Go away.Cloth to neck,panic and fury,our eyes meet.Slight smile, clothing is colored bright.Final sight of your lips, and darkness floods,as faint sirens screechin the distance.
You and ILingering through my dreams,Grasping my hand,in a gentle dance,across the field of swaying flowers.Holding you close,embracing against the shine of the sun,soothed by the touch of the wind.And laying in the rain,just you and I,hoping to be yours till the end of time.I close my eyes,and hopetill the beating of the rainceases.
I Love YouI love you more than anythingmore than anyone,I'll miss you more than I miss anything,even the bliss that I had lostI want you more than my hidden desiresthat tug at my aching heartBut it seems that you have ran off,out of my arms,and out of sightAnd I'm sorryfor saying all the wrong words,and being all the wrong things.I love youso even if you don't come back,my love will forever be for no one but you.
To Whom it Doesn't ConcernHello.I've truly realized how none of you care.You act as if you do, but in the end, you are concerned with no one but yourselves.I had never asked for much. A simple kindness was worth too much to give, it seems, but I understand.I wasn't the person you were looking to give it to.I learned that I've never wanted to be.Never wanted to breathe, never wanted to live.Mostly because, there is nothing worth living for, not even myself.Why must I suffer? Why do I let myself face this agony and this pain?You say that this is selfish, because it'll only inflict pain upon others, but there'll be none.Because you don't care.It is selfish of you to degrade me for wanting release, for letting me crumble and wither away.But you don't care.You're just like everyone else. And hopefully you will suffer just as much as I have to.It's unbearable. It's indescribable.It's consumed me.I've turned into this monster.And it's time that I rid the world of it.Farewell.
I don't careI no longer careIt's just a mere wound,just another drop of blood,and just a little sob.It becomes routine,part of the coldness of your hearts.Please tell me why God has chosen meto live on this planet.Somberly, along this oppressive path.I wanted nothing.And you got everything.
teen sitcomshe's a carousel of lovers; bow before homecoming queenbuilt from holy Roman marble and a pound of Maybelinea hundred cameras catching teeth; unconscious girl out the doorfriendship bracelets slipping off and melodrama turns to gorecherries popped beneath high-heels; pulses slow down to a crawl no more teacups, dolls are gone- big girls play with alcohol
ShadesI'll lay you down upon this bed,Eyes blinded with a strip of black cloth.I'll take my time to circle around you.Enjoying the light aroma of fear and sweat;Mixed with just a hint of excitement.I'll see your legs pushed together,Perhaps in anticipation.Or would it be the butterflies;That dance a shade of scarlet upon your cheeks.I'll take my time to run these fingersAlong your soft milky white skin.And even before you part your lips to confirm it,I'll already know that you belong to me.
DownfallAnd in this dark harvest of seasonMy life has completely lost reason,For which or against to decide.All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tideIn sadness and in kindnessIn light and in darkness.In a boat made of hopeI shall sail to tomorrow,In a winding hurricaneMade of treachery and sorrow.There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...Piercing, slashing though my head.Starting somewhere in heaven,Ending somewhere in hell.Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.Are the armies within.In my head they are all thrashing.On the heaven's and hell's whim.To be light or to be darkness.A perpetual array.It's not merely my choice,But the choice of the way.It's an option of the voice,It's a thin line of gray.Is it a choice forced by fate,Is it a pre-set time and date?Or a choice to which I myself sway?But here's our story anyway
."Nothing that I do will matter.As all things will merely shatter!"All my hopes thus darkness scatter,As it shoves me a decree.As it si
RainShe was bloated, swollen in herOwn melancholy moistureThreadbare at her contoursUnravelled into gray woolenStrings, too loose for her skinAnd they drained off her shouldersTo pool in a waxy heap by herIvory heel-bones.She was rounded by opaqueMoons, liquid apricity. The lifeIn her womb churned, awakeningFrom quiescence. Her beingShuddered from the maelstrom withinAnd in a great wailing cry of woeHer waters burst in a ferociousDeluge, catharsis.She roiled under each contractionAs unearthly poetry thundered from herThroat, emblazoned with lightning. HerChild is birthed, swaddled in her failingBody, decrescendo heartbeat.And as the babe breathed, the windAbandoned her shallow lungs,Cadaver cumulus.
The Night VisitShe arrives on time each night,With a flurry of quick footsteps, Followed by a timid knock at my door.The reply I give her is often curt,'Enter,' I'll sayAnd she does.I spend a moment taking stock of her appearance:Noticing bare skin beneath a heavy brown coat.A few droplets of sweat run down her neck,And she swallows nervously as she awaits my instruction.I approach her slowly;Enjoying this moment where the distance closes.My eyes take their time to pull her into focus,And like a bolt of awareness she becomes vivid;Her lips a sparkling red and utterly lush for a kiss...Her eyes are doe-eyed and completely tame;Her makeup is perfect, as I've always liked.But I can tell, beneath that flawless surface,That it was rushed under a dim streetlight.At this point our lips are separated by a bare inch,I like to leave this distance as I stare into her eyes.I enjoy the way her breath quickens as I ask her the question,The question that beg
The Death that is Left BehindI.Somewhere beneaththe layers laid,alone is a man who scrapesoutward. He islike the child fallendown a deep well, whosees the way is up and yetscratches stone wallsinstead--the flesh offingers giving way, symbolizinga waning vivacity sealedin the center of his diamond-hardshell. II.Sound is a physic; music, a friction--white hot motion to motionless souls. It is pain and heat, terribleand beautiful, healing, and the deaththat is left behind.
progress reportthe astronauts never returned and neither did the newsin my hands i fold a megalithic pigeonthe take-home message is: the cosmos is a cold dead bitchas you sleep under magazines, waiting for nothing.in the shackles of a sterilized den, there's an actualmastodon heart, pale and glassy pink, icy filmtightened like a fist; - and the scientists despair: it's the morning of the opening,then the few slashes of paralyzing waves.like a sign we'd make when we were younger, a way to disarma bandit, or a preacher or the oncoming horde of space invaders.but the drawings you sent to venus never returned, and now the crack, and the scientists at a loss before the angered public.they release a report that states that the floodgates opened by themselves, that the valves erodelike the chalky sand that will swirl and hiss
Not My Kind of Fairy TaleDon't give me the KnightWhose armor shines so bright.Give me the Knight,Whose armor is dull and broken.Whose horse is weary,Whose heart is heavy.Give me the Knight who looks at the dragon with pity,For that dragon has done nothing,And is just as imprisoned as the princess he guards.Don't give me a princess who only wishes to be saved,By that Knight whose armor shines so bright.Give me the princess who wishes to escape yes,But wants to free the dragon,Who does not wish to marry her savior--Nay, give me the princess who wants to explore,Who wants to live and to learn.For the years of imprisonment only made her yearn,Not for the Knight whose armor shines bright,But to see the world and live in the light.Do not give me the evil dragon,Whose soul purpose is to give that bright Knight something to fight.No, give me the dragon who is weary,Who longs for the freedom of the sky,Whose leg is burdened with chains,And whose heart aches for the princess he must guard,Lest h
AnimeAs soon as i saw Anime on Tv I was happy to see it played,I Like inuyasha, FMA, Naruto and many others but why?At 34 years old loving anime, isn't this strange?Loving Anime is loving someoneYou cherish it foreverUntil You die but Anime is Amazing what they can do today..Its in 2-D, 3-D and CG's But no matter what,Anime to me will always cherish me into my heart and soulWhen i was younger Anime never existed,Why?Anime will stay into the younger kids today,Anime Rocks,Anime will rule the world maybe someday?What can you do not without a pencil today?You Can draw Anime,You Can always give you're best shot to draw even if you're not good enough,True isn't it?You can put Anime on Tv, on a website about everything,Anime Kick Butt.
The Time Has ComeThe time has come.I've preparedI've listenedI've ponderedI know thatmy choices are limited.Don't stop me, your efforts are futileThis is how the story ends.Goodbye.