Untitled work

My hands ever extending.

Do I know what my arms reach for?

Nothing? Forever?

My eyes are swollen, from the darkness.

I've surrounded myself in chaos.

Shunning life, the useless habitual nature of existence.

In defiance, I stood before the eyes of Jehova.

I remain true. As I watched it burn it grew more silent.

Always... It is always silent.

Covered in my conviction I marked myself.

I am a son of chaos, the wrathful harbinger for my allies.

Pity

There is nothing I despise more in this world then fools who cannot follow themselves.

I hope the hell that dwells in my heart rapes the peace to every fucker who was betrayed me.

I no longer will let you fuckers drain me.

Stream of Conscious during a bad nervous episode

My dreams are to far out of my reach,
my every desire hanging in the distance.
The madness I own, the madness I crave,
I want to with sweet desire allow myself to slip to chaos.

To be with the flow, the vibrations of time,
to exist and to not. A silhouette of a shadow
To be here physically, and traveling mentally.
Like a moving picture, fact and a fiction.

With every strum on a string, and every pull on a bow,
every strike at a key, and snap to a drum.
I find myself. losing whats left.
I am my own, I am alone.
With a few friends I've created named, merlot, and pills.
I seen the darkness, I have seen horrors. The depths of the mind
which us mortals keep dormant.

I watch those preach about their "insanity" boasting of madness
and insane serenity. Yet I ask myself this question.
Have ye fantasized the dead, of all those you love, and fucking their decaying heads?
I ask with all due respect, I dare not wish to offend, but this
madness you speak of is my oldest fucking friend.

I lie in wait, in the darkness slumber.
Witnessing my own eyes, die with the summer.
The winter of my heart, the cold veins flow,
I pray so this winter, my heart finally slows.

So I end this dear poem, a riddle of sorts.
Am I worthy of my suffering, or should I suffer so I can worry?
Do I make my dreams happen? Do I cause this hell so?
Yet the judgements I find, come from those dumb shit fools.

Who think evil, is a table top game, who think that the mind
is so easy to tame. I come from the school, where the hell I live was taught.
Horrifying images, the darkest lived memories
Forced down my throat, until I couldn't fucking cough.

I AM my hell, yet I dare not trade. For it makes me greater, then anything you can create.
I am a god in my hell, I am a god in my rage. I AM EVERYTHING and yet I am nothing.
I hate everything about me, yet I love what I am. Alone, dead, heart slowly whispers.
Twisted hope, ohh you bastard. A few to many drinks and I've turned a poem to an essay.

Yet if you read this, with a carnival tune in mind, with the rythem of that melody, you
can find my state of mind. I spin and I spin, and I point at the pictures, of the fake
fucking fools, and their ignorant STABLES.

COME AND DANCE WITH ME IN MY DARKNESS
WHO FUCKING CARES ITS YOU ME AND NOTHING
We shall see who will live, and we shall see who shall breath
Will you come out the same as you thought you could be.

I am quite worried. It troubles me so. The thoughts of torturing, a few select souls
are the only thing that soothes my pain. I feel like death. I feel I am......

Stream of Consciousness

I find myself without a shadow
the shadow signifying my purpose.
I lye in wait for my moment to redeem myself
and wonder if I have passed it by.

I stand alone for so long. My soul dying, yet ever lasting.
I watch the ones I love so dearly hurt and I cannot destroy the cause.

A guardian without someone to protect.
A moon with no earth.
Silence with the screaming eyes of grief.

I lye in wait, for my moment...

Random words blurted out of my ass

I gaze upon the words
planted by those who know not meaning
who know not anything that is or was

attempted self prophecy
often failed in the recognition of lies
the awe inpiring power of denial
to lose the mind in the web of psychic creation
and come out asleep with the conscious unable
to recognize the false from the true
it remembers

I gaze upon the vermin
who harvest what they sown into the earth
the lies ever granted upon themselves
the joy carved into their faces with the eyes so ever desolate

how the mind remembers at all times
the unfogiving subconscious, the web of lies breaks
from the unending weight bestowed upon
as it breaks the core of the being dies with it

everything in an attempt to gather said believed worth
the false mind is eaten by the strong
and thrown into the gutter

A Device Lost To Uknown Gods

The distance...
Shadows consuming horizons
light constructing
death device
divine device

nothing less,
nothing more
a desert filled with sand
a life after another

"I sense
the ending days
Sliding into the light

I smell
the earth burning
devoured by the light

As it grows
so beautifully
always consuming
ever consuming

Life suffocated
by a wall of fire
the charred remains
of existence lye bare"

no thoughts stand out
just some brighter
darker
transparent

misonsctrued the words
redefining
light is not so welcoming
when fueled by fire

The final thoughts
which cloud the mind
do I lye still
or should I run

"I sense
the ending days
Sliding into the light

I smell
the earth burning
devoured by the light

As it grows
so beautifully
always consuming
ever consuming

Life suffocated
by a wall of fire
the charred remains
of existence lye bare"

Behold what happens,
when it is found by unknown gods
the device is found
by unknown gods
The end is brought
by the wrath of unknown gods

The distance...
Shadows consuming horizons
light constructing
death device
divine device

nothing less,
nothing more
a desert filled with sand
a life after another

the screams squelched
engulfed by ash
by the gods who's name
shall never be known

"I sense
the ending days
Sliding into the light

I smell
the earth burning
devoured by the light

As it grows
so beautifully
always consuming
ever consuming

Life suffocated
by a wall of fire
the charred remains
of existence lye bare"

Clockwork Mechanics of A Disfunctional Mechanism

follow me through the hallway and I shall show you the coldest darkness
the coldest darkness
survived by nothing
let us sing along with silence

follow me closely perhaps I may show you
the depths of myself
how softly life struggles
embracing the twisted
clockwork mechanics
of what many would assume
a chemical imbalance

I fear my own life
I fear my own destiny
what do these images mean
what could they stand for

THEY haunt, they stare, the ask rediculous questions
in the corner, i see myself staring back at me
as if he wants to dine on my heart

I am the great nothing I crave, I am the nothing I wish I was not.
desperate for anything, I focus on nothing
my mind is a fuck, it has lost its function

follow me through the hallway and I shall show you the coldest darkness
the coldest darkness
survived by me
let us sing along with silence
let us move along with silence