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Literature Text
infinite pain, smothered,
do not worry dear, my heart hath died,
pool of mine own blood, stewed, dried on,
punctured by, a slow arrow,
torn asunder, reduced to ashes,
do not worry dear, my heart hath died,
pool of mine own blood, stewed, dried on,
punctured by, a slow arrow,
torn asunder, reduced to ashes,
Literature
Nocte
Hiding from the beast,
From tree to tree,
Running in the dark,
I tell myself such things,
Slow- so it won't find you,
Breath.
These fires have scorched far and wide,
Leaving the scent of my former cinders to linger in my head,
Like some bad bender,
Warped memories encircling grey,
The ground is made of shattered glass,
Broken dreams.
No lilies remain,
To any kingdom I run,
In mirrors of liquid glass,
Surrealist battles are won,
And like fear,
The spider crawled from my mouth.
They are sedating everything,
Brush pixilated,
Focus changing,
Leaving me to run in the dark,
Caught in the eye of the storm,
Hiding in the calm.
Literature
Insomnia
When sleep, like life, eludes me .......
...... life giving sleep overcomes everyone but me ....
life sapping concienceness drains me ....
My crimson shadowy wraith wakens and fills the slumber with it's grip of dark thoughts ... my mind races my soul cringes .....
The beauty of life but a twinkle in the crushing darkness of dispair ...... a flicker of light, the glimpse of a smile, the warmth of a touch ...... but a trickle .. like a single tear ....
............. the cold bitter dark, unrelenting throbbing, deafening, mindnumbing soul destroying pain!
....... like Ten thousand times Ten black holes ripping through the subatomic fibre
Literature
Cover
Cover
Hello,
Do you know me?
If you don’t by now you won’t.
Did I tell you? Would you listen if I did?
To the end of these words.
The closing of the book.
The dust,
It must be overlooked
For I know the rest of my story will be.
Leftovers of life to be shoved in the corner of the room.
Never restored or remembered.
Just whispers into the unknown of emptiness.
The unknown before me.
So much silence,
Looking to the fog:
The mystery,
The sense of loss,
The future.
If you remember me:
Then, now, forever.
Then I’ll live on through thoughts,
Through wishes.
In the end my true desire
Is but room in the soul of the world.
To be reme
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very dark