Hearing the winds of rendezvous chilling the blanket of snow colder than the heart of my soul beneath the heels of this earth a mound of dirt turned to salt clinging to stone shrouding bones hearing the winds of rendezvous
You have been forewarned my wild child Now you are in my realm no Golden Sun shall shine I will give as you wish As my hounds of Hades shall shred the beast and the bitch You may have your make believe throne For any mortal who sits beside you, curses his own birthright, never to see daylight, and will never atone You are my pet in the obscurity of darkness This is a nightmare upon your skin felt My deep lashes felt, acid stinging welts ...
A flowers petals bloom out too fast to enjoy they open to show their sticky red nectar leaking and bubbling, overflowing it seeps through the cracks between the petals staining the curly fuzz on its edges climbing up those bronze coil wires eating through them and they sink because the weight of blood is too much
Whispering sweet Husqvarna listening to the breathing idling from the chain's lullabies clinging to me my pathologist with the whiskers of twilight trimming the filet dripping the marrow before dragging the axle rod whispering sweet Husqvarna
And on the screen flashed a picture of a woman, whose face was all puffed up grotesquely. Blood dripped from the open roof of her mouth. Dismembered like a doll, by a ravenous child. But the killer, caught, looked different. He had blond hair, and a bloodied patch curling all around his neck, as if he’d just had a tattoo. His eyes were sunken deep into their sockets, and they reflected on the camera. Something about him, his appearance, his presence was off. I felt it. I could see through him, into the aligned reflection of my face. That man looked like he wanted to kill someone.
Scraps of phrases razor laced endearments and sordid images Shots under cover Tainted reality stolen in back alleys and dingy rooms Flickering neon Casting sinister implications over sight Stomach recoils rebels Contents strewn upon grimy cement floor What is learned blinds Knees crash upon glass Shards cutting ...
Deteriorating, listening to notes chill my aorta, bleeding silence the snow, cold winds blow on my pale Viola whispering ghosts with strings of debauchery's mania, raising the hackles of my macabre's schizophrenia and anger in quotes deteriorating, listening to notes