An Epitaph from his WidowHis demise had seemed an impossible task; Yet there he lays buried,An Epitaph from his Widow
Adorned with an earthen crown and Swimming in steel cold bullets of sweat.
You were here before I was born, Cuddled inside your flesh casket.
Curlecatures of smoke in shades of blue-grey Course through my veins like liquid fire.
There is no subtle lustre in my pale, Withered skin, The bronze long-faded since your departure, Your burning kiss forgotten.
My late-night dreams are a cacophany of song, A slow tantric melody of dirge. Far off rattles of sistra echo
End of the GameHer room reeked of stale bread and peroxide. Laurie knew that she should open the curtains a little to help the smell escape. She had always hated its rank, oppressive wetness, but felt safer when no one could look inside. She didn't want to be seen. She stroked the walls with her small pale hands, smiling at the contrast of the whitewash of the paint and her crimson nails.End of the Game
Drawing on her slim, white-tipped cigarette, she sat thinking as she watched its ash float through the air like tiny insects on the soft breeze that worked its way through the open window.
Brushing aside her full dark fringe, Robbo again entered h
A Eulogy for my BetrothedDespite the sun being the closest of the stars, Our bearer of self defining light, It could not have been dimmer or further outA Eulogy for my Betrothed
For this tragic man, my betrothed, Who lived his life much as Tantalus.
He lived in a world without colour.
I struggled for the words to describe it, This glorious instance of shade, And was met with the doors of a sheet iron coffin.
How do you describe colour to a man without light?
It dances upon the windows, Enlivens the darkest corners and lengthens the small hours. It is the well of eternity and the sustainer of
SinkingFailed visions siphoned through empty mouths and minds. Silently crossing this sea of wasted flesh, with a cold dead Earth beneath. Hope appears then recedes, a tide of mockery. If hate is what fuels this fire, then so be it.Sinking
Lonely shadows swallow your prayers for life and sanity, Fear will fashion your grave for you, screams drowned out by night. Choked by jaws of swift revenge, devouring the light.
Twisted TomorrowToday, I want us to remember: A life so sick it could sate us always. In the end, I want you to remember: A love so bleak it could shatter mirrors.Twisted Tomorrow
Yesterday, I wanted you to save me. I wanted you to slow my feigned death to a halt. "Poor, little old depraved me," You were just a little rabbit; scared, Now run and hide. I need you to believe me When I say that I'm no way to die.
Tomorrow's Nothing new, hun; Another twisted shape for you to hold. A garden Fit for pagans; A bloodied carving, shunned, and turned to gold
Delicious, delicious insanity
Approval
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powerful art is from the heart!
Planning on adding some literature of sorts, are we?
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You will see my burning inferno, and there is no way in your wildest dreams that you can say no!
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powerful art is from the heart!
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You will see my burning inferno, and there is no way in your wildest dreams that you can say no!
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i have your nose! come and get it!--> [link]
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You will see my burning inferno, and there is no way in your wildest dreams that you can say no!
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Of course we're out of time, we were never in it to begin with.
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You will see my burning inferno, and there is no way in your wildest dreams that you can say no!
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i have your nose! come and get it!--> [link]
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