That red r0se. . . That s0le red rose will lay there by her side that dark red rose his lovely little bribe her only c0mpani0n on her c0ncrete seat that half bl0omed rose which her tears silently beat. . . That l0ng stemmed r0se (will be) her only c0mfort as she cries that sweet smelling rose that never utters lies A symb0l of his love and desire that silk petaled r0se Is a wilting pr0mise that our em0ti0ns never expire.
I cradled filth today. . . I held it to my virgin b0s0m Unaware of alterior intenti0ns as its t0ngue forked out disturbing the dryness áof untainted flesh. I forced it to withdraw but it leeched back A shadow created fr0m my own nightmares. Reeking of infectious m0rbidity. (inc0mplete)
Pestasio shells lie scattered across my fl0or. Their c0ntents c0nsumed Objects that are no m0re. The only proof of their existance the residue of saltiness that lingers still upon my tingling lips And the empty shells that lay scattered across my bedroom floor.
Someday though you will come riding, high on your black stalli0n. Your once shining arm0ur tarnished fr0m journeys won and lost. Battle stories dented and rippied into it. . . And ill welcome you with polite rejection and if need be, a loving bullet. For if i sumbit to the woes of a galloping Casan0va Damned i will be.
When i cry i do so al0ne. . . Yet when you cry, You do so on my willing shoulder. . . á
My burden is mine al0ne to bare with silent tears and broken pr0mises. . . But let your burden n0t weigh you down . . . Share your woes . . . Surely i can ease your brow straight and curve the c0rners of your fr0wn up. .
An indeterminate smudge on society. Shes an ever growing wound on humanity The sickening crunch of realisation (Is) her only saviour from dem0ralisation But the virtue of temperance is lost to her stonic soul As the compression of her concupiscence burns through her every bone Charring her spine and igniting her conscience She lays cradled far within, beyond an idle Gods patience. The worlds full of facades my dear. Fake smiles Fake patience Fake love The only thing asured real is the hatred in you. Its real Like...
In various colours of ink He drew his love upon my arm. Stating. . . 'Thats how much i love you so'
As i looked at hýs heart boldly displayed on my arm A thing that could be easily washed off, smudged and marred. Etched in ink that fades in minutes, i could not help but blurt out my thourghts. . . ' Your love is questionable lover. . .'
Oh sweet sorrow come and show yourself in your full glory And bring along with you your locked up chasity of hate and misery (For) nolonger can i stand this torture so silent For soon will get i, peace away from my thourghts so violent Then i will swim in thn crimson waters of life As i induldge on the love of his cold knife And i will feel it flow As it draws out with my precious glow And he will have kissed me ÷nce upon each wrist embracing me in hýs hypothermic mist And thus , bend shaul i to his every command every brazen...
Crimson Tide that dosth beside me ride Shower not your bloody hate upon my pride Forget that i had in your darkness bathed And remember not this infactuation that hasth now faded For i am now me (again)
Show no pity, for from you im now disowned Tainted love nolonger brooding Echoing forgiveness nolonger screaming Piercing desire of unquenched machaveria (Now) forgotten in my sorbid mind everseeking Utopia For i am now me (again)