The Downward Spiral.

Angel dust and blood flowing from my nose
fumes from my belly, oozing through my pores,
the darkness in my rotting lungs
a reminder of my date with the reaper.

kill thyself, lest thine be killed
father awaits my bleeding soul
regardless of the heathen I’ve been,
when am dying slowly, I feel whole

Angel dust and needle pricks,
numbing soul and killing thoughts
toxic spirits and suicide sticks,
ease my pain, take me quick.

All these vices, all these tricks
just to feel something else for a moment
can’t do it otherwise, no way slick
angel dust and needle pricks,
one last time, take me quick.

Reflection

Your flaws irk me
Your imperfections magnified unbearably,
they outshine mine
i wish i could choke you.

i hate myself
but i hate you more.
i’d like to never see you again,
but i don’t have that comfort when it comes to me.

too fat, too loud, too crude
doesn’t matter who you are,
i’ll find your flaws and loath them.
there’s hate in me, but no blame
because in the end, it’s all the same

Because you and I, we’re the same.

Where Is My Mind?

the clock is ticking on the wall,
the sun goes down, leaving shadows behind
betraying light slowly fading away,
and now darkness is, and still the clock ticks.

time is running out and leaves my soul crying,
trapped between what should be and what is,
abandoned by everything except your dreams,
the clock is not your enemy, you are.

is someone else how you want to be?
stumble and fall and get up crying,
walking through this senseless maze,
your essence trailing behind you, fading.

scattered and disconnected and lost in the cosmos,
beautifully dense mind, pitifully empty heart
nothing sets you on fire anymore
nothing calls you out anymore.

endless rancid pits of negativity and disgust
visions of elevation wake you up from restless sleep
only to despair at it’s falsity
and you hear the clock ticking in the darkness.

mindless

The Unbroken

the clouds moan above as if in sympathy,
for the silent one below
and then the tears roll,
hurtling down on the lone one

head raised to the skies,
only thing colder then him is his heart
an empty smile to the heavens,
he hears the silences between the thunder

timeless, sacred child,
no one can break his heart
this unholy defiance of love,
might scare some, but not him,
wild one below

blessed aloneness amongst a pit of writhing souls,
incredibly vulnerable and yet unbreakable
blessed one, dreaming of ascension,
amid the tears and cries of the skies.

the waiting

watching the gears turn like a dog on alert
can’t, won’t stray from this tedious path chosen
no looking back now, no looking forward either
struggle to honour the moment, breathe and watch the gears relentless

do not deviate, lest it all fall apart
eyes on the machine, battered soul tirelessly patient
absolute intolerance to your cries and complaints
do not disturb this holy absence of human pretentiousness

this unending patience is the only thing left
the wait for the wait to end
seconds melt away into minutes into hours into eternity
doesn’t matter anymore, the gears turn and the eyes watch
I have become the waiting.

out.

let me out,
just for a while,
out of my head
out of my desires, my emotions, my thoughts, my insecurities,
just for a while,
let me out.

i don’t want to feel anything.
just for a while,
out of my toxic thoughts,
out- before the sickness within concumes me whole,
before i stumble and give in,
give in to these sand paper thoughts

sanity crying out againts this duality,
can’t win a fight with myself,
without losing a part of me,
so let me out? just for a while
let me out.

this can’t be it,
there’s got to be something else,
something to catch me,
at the end of this eternal void,
something to embrace me and tell me it’s over,
this isolated vulnerable state of mind,
consuming the other side slowly like a cancer,
but if there is nothing else,
then let me out.

Across The Plains Of Gorgoroth

A sickness lay across the plateau,
the air foul with the fumes from the mountain,
Life so long ago no memory exists of it,
a shadow creeps across the heart of those who walk the plains,
bringing rumor of fell beasts in the sky,

An eye burns in the distance,
tireless it searches,
sight reaching beyond the fortress of barad-dur,
and as far as the black gate.

Past the dark lands of Isenmouthe,
beyond the toxic waters of NĂºrn,
lies the land of the fallen,
where only evil hearts tread,
of creatures only darker then the sky itself.

Stepping out of your door is serious business,
for one path leads to every other
and some paths better be left alone
so wanderer be weary,
lest thy walk into the plains of gorgoroth.