




The Slow Descent into Dementia
Bound and left for the beasts,
what awaits is no end
No shade finds my flesh,
and the catching fibers
are slowly burnt to a crisp
And such a darkness,
the vision of my eyes,
Whatever lies ahead
The rotting time,
The old home of my mind...
the dust and asbestos
that corrodes
what fragments remain.
left for my demons-
I'm simply waiting for time
to drag me away and down,
for the rotting feast...
to begin waiting
for this life
to fade away
with every bite.

The Devout, The Divine, The Deceased
Three are they,
Of Heavenly origin.
Governed by the Highest Throne,
and led by the Horsemen.
Devout are the Grim Trinity.
As death has never ceased
So true to the cause are they...
By cursed and divine blades.
The Patrons of the Deceased and Dying...
and of those related to the involved.
Divine by right is the Angel...
Unholy by cause is the Demon...
Leader by title is the Nephilim.
By them are taken souls guided,
Through them are souls
released or enslaved.

The White Morgue
Watching, my eyes saw the swaying limbs
thin and starved by winter winds...
Dancing, like moving cracks on the window,
Through which I did stare.
Imagine, the image so morbid above as I gazed.
unnerving to the anchoring blood,
drying up within the veins of my limbs,
much like the branches that sliced the air...
The roots dug deep into my back,
and the anchored blood began to freeze...
My vessels, destroyed by glaciers,
of icy blood, that once flowed.
The travesty, of the bullet plunged into my heart,
whose beat slows, and withers and fades.
Too and so soon, the loss of my life...
Now I play the game of patience...

Ignorance is Fear
What knowing have you
of what you speak?
The rotten fruit from which
you've bitten and consumed,
has truly brought to you
the seeds of idiocy.
What have you done,
to comprehend such words as provocative?
As pure and professional
are the letters that I form to art.
Doubt I that you
know a significant thing.
The ignorance you so proclaim,
is the fear from which you flee.
You dread whatever is misunderstood,
and without reason do you lash outward
with teeth and claw,
like some rabid beast, tormented by disease.
In the end, the clarity has marked
that yours is the feeble mind.
Yours is the debate of madness,
and the indecenc





URL |
Thumb |
The Journal Portal
Browse Journals |
Polls |
deviantART [dee·vee·un'nt·ART]
Keep in Touch!
|
Deviousness |
you are doing really fucking great journals!