Hack To Pieces And Tear Asunder The Bodies Of Mine Enemies

My axe is wielded high over you
Poised to rip your intestines apart;
For I am the beautiful arrogant Cybele
Orgasmically pleased to savour your heart.
My crimson knife sculpts your chest,
Exposing a fear-pale airless lung.
I demand proof of your devotion:
Emasculate yourself and your young.
Offer your magnificent corpse in my service
- Grandiose funeral prostitution behold -
Your luscious skin perforated in place,
Ornamented with barbed wire of gold;
Sacrifice your ruby teardrops;
In royal thorns, enrobe yourself;
For you are my demonic priest
Sworn to suffer, pledged to myself...

The Scarlet Sail

See the scarlet sail on the horizon,
The blood-red waves surround it,
Dancing before the crimson fireball
At the world’s last known limit.

Onboard, amidst the slender rigging,
The tall, billowy sails up high,
There, on the time-worn planks,
The Forsaken Crew walk by.

The men belong to a bygone era –
Last of an ancient dying race,
Their kind vanished centuries since –
They alone transcend time and space.

The wind whips their long locks,
Their faces are as cold as the sea,
Their sabers are as scarlet as their sails,
And their eyes hold unsolved mystery.

They roam the ocean’s expanse alone,
Bowing to none but the zephyr’s will.
The ghostly galleon will never be seen;
For those who do, it spells great peril.

The scarlet sails still embrace the gale,
Still attract the bull like flags of red,
The carved figurehead still stands tall,
Pointing to newer adventures ahead.

Now you may think you know everything
In this age of internet and KFCs:
But someday yet you will realize
The scarlet sail still stirs the seas…

I.Hate.Myself.

I can't remember the last time I felt so unwanted and worthless.
Possibly I deserve to be cast away.
Possibly it's time someone made me feel this way.
They say, pride comes before a fall.
I've told myself ten thousand times that I will never trust again.
Yet I do so, ten thousand times over, through the pain.
Why should I?
Remind me not to. It is safer.
It is a well-known fact that anesthesia is a drug which causes no pleasurable sensations.
But anesthetized people cannot feel pain.
That is all that matters.

Tha above poem is written by me, thus proving creativity ain't dead, peace \m/

The Illusion Is My Truth

I stare at the passengers, but see
None of the myriad people before me.
I see a land locked away in my memories
And a sudden smile – in my dreams I see.
But the fantasy is so real, so vivid.
Why should I ever let go?

I know the absurdity of life,
That I am happy… SO HAPPY!
And the hurt tears my insides,
The pain rips apart my body.
Like the survivor of a shipwreck
I still cling to what I know.

I have so much to give, so much
Love to offer my beloved.
My helplessness mocks me
“What have you received?”
I still give my shadow smile
My phantom hand touches the same.

And they kiss and then they laugh
Those pairs on the train never part.
I alone shut my eyes, I lean back
And a tiny flicker grows in my heart.
No wind can blow out its glow.
But no wind will fan it into flame.

Actually Written by a friend but revised version by me ... Peace \m/

Silent Nights

silver night, golden flames,
one and one become one,
breathe hard, breathe hardly,
come closer, come melt in my arms,
come deeper, lest the stars may see.

and i open my eyes,
serenity dreaming next to me,
theres no heaven in the skies,
its right here, on her face tonight.

its magic when she smiles,
In a trance i smile, her smile,
then she moves,
and i hold my breath,
afraid to wake her up,
curling deeper into my arms,
the sweet angel dreams on.

i lie back and close my eyes,
listening to her breath,
singing against the silence of the night.

shes chaos,
and my bliss.
shes a dream,
and my reality.
shes the past,
and my present.
shes free,
and shes mine.