UntitledNothing There was once a man who lived in a grey city.He was quiet,And no one noticed him.He lived alone,In a large houseThat could have easily fit two.The hallways were always full,Filled with the mournful colours,That bled from crayon tips. Everyday this man went to work,Then returned as the sky turned black.Everyday this man was greeted by nothing,Smiling, until the man trudged away.Nothing was nothing after all.It was always the same routine.Every day for the longest time.But the man never changes. The same.No matter how hard anyone tries to make the man realize,That there is Something.That it is yearning for his attention,That all it cares for is him,He will always blind himself from these things.Besides, it wouldn’t matter.Nothing would move on.It would forget. So many years.You left me alone,But why?Did you fear me?Did you hate me?Did I make you feel guilty?I still loved you anyway.
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
Is It Love?If I hugged you,would you never let go?If I kissed you,would you cherish that moment?If I reached for your hand,would you take mine gently?If I needed a shoulder,would you let me cry on yours?If I needed to talk,would you really listen?If I needed to scream,would you do it with me?If I needed to go,would you come with me?If I fell for you,would you catch me?or just let me hit the pavement?
my grand piano the winds are howling but I'll stay here and play my grand piano; the frost gathers on the panes and the cold edges into my marrow but I will stay here and continue to play my grand piano - and when the sheet music is done and the snow has drifted against my door
You Selfish BastardDrink the poisonand pretend as ifyou aren't slowly killing yourself.But that is your intentionand you've dedicated your lifeto this self-destructive path.Married to addictionand divorced from self-control,you're willing to let your body dieand force your loved ones to watchjust so you can havea night of numbness.Your death isn't going to shock anyoneif you keep down this road.
TapestryThe morning is a tapestry...tripping over last night's grace,I watch you weave your skinand shake out your hair -soft teal and jonquilshadowing your cheekas the curtains part between your hands.Threads tangle as you turn,telling medawn is a gentle lover,and the tumble of birdsplaiting their soft noteslingers on the pillowswhere your smile is my undoing.
CultistOne day, we’ll worship rustand marvel how it claimedthe world of industrious metal,leaving nothing but slowingreddening struts, half-heartedangles reaching outward.We’ll dive into the wreckslooking for half-sparking wondersthat, when properly restored, gleaminto sputtering song or splittingpictures of different worldsand the faces of old Gods.
There was an old clock in the hallThere was an old clock in the hall,Whose gears had been broken and stalled. Then ticking ensued, And it filled all the rooms,Though it wasn't the old clock at all.