God pulls off my wings… Then he Laughs… (THE FAMILY DISEASE)

These hooks fall and dig into my eyes…. A FINAL GASP… A screaming of no sound… The echoes blend into voices that I can only behold…

I can’t believe you never knew one better… Aren’t you so ashamed? This glass cuts me as I lay down… I vomited all my truths on the floor… A familiar burning edges down through my legs as they tremble… Jumble up my watercolor world, as if you hadn’t already… And when you see me standing here, bland with discontent, know the truth… That this lack of feeling is burning me from the inside out…

Can’t you see me like I’m actually still here? A fumble and misspeaking of words crashed down to nothing… I watch the fire and brimstone crash down from the heavens and watch the scrambling from the people that actually care… Standing still, I feel the dying breaths of the earth, the whore that never stopped caring…

God how I want this to end.. Not feeling feels worse than actually having a care… This shadow follows the curse of my eyes… Because my father gave them to me… I float off the last mountain… The wind rushes but I still don’t feel a thing… This numb is burning me down… I know now it will never change… In this house of flies…

I HOOK MY HEART TO MY EYES AND FEET!!! MAYBE THEN I CAN SEE WHERE I’M GOING!!!

THIS SEA OF OPEN ARMS KEEPS THE REST CONCEITED!! BUT I PAY NO ATTENTION!!!

I’M STILL DREAMING!!!

I stand stagnant in the wind, and I remember I conceded it all… With that last bullet from                                                        my gun….

           I’M FINALLY A FLY ON THE WALL

            WHERE I BELONG….

            GOD PULLED OFF MY WINGS….

               AND THEN HE LAUGHED…

Gospel of The Rose Vol. III

                     The Gospel of The Rose Vol. III

1st Key
Chapter I
“What is akin to my children?”, God said,” The finest of all above even my angels which may perform my miracles because thy posses free will which is only something I share with Thou.” The Beauty of thy’s free will is only known by our God. Cometh forth from the sands we know we are. Within that sand lies the memories of thous pre-history. The only thing that makes thou the way of our personality is our memories. That makes us human in part compared to the forms and thisles of this land given to us by Him. Of which we may only say that this creation called “man” is blessed upon our nameless Entity that is eternal. That which has a name had a beginning. The force we called God is nothing more than an underlying force within all we see, making us the people we know. Blessed be thou who knows these sacred facts of that phenomenon called life for it is a sanctified miracle.

Chapter II
What is a miracle? I hast always said,” God is that of chance. All is science. But the unknown art the reason behind the starting of the chain of events that leads to the miraculous outcome.” God said,” My secret must remain as such before the eyes of man. Men are sickened creatures that think only that they are the real gods when they can do nothing in this universe.” Let us actually be that which our God can be proud of. How many thouest think of such ineffable goals? We are all merely men among thieves within this land called America. Land of the Free. Home Of the Brave. Such lies have been cast down to us. A miracle would be for thy kinsman to awaken and realize that they too have much stake in the world. I have. Is ceasing to be ignorant really asking thou that much? Fill with sloth and cease only to pertain to thous sorcery and call it “Gods work” before we whom know God and Hath seen Him within our very lives? I shall not be fooled upon this day. Know my wrath is great before my lord. If a god blocks my path, even he will be cut by my blade, made strong by my persevierence. Fool yourself not into believing that any man may stand in my place for you must know your own heart before thou may moveth forward into that which is the land of the Angels.

Chapter III
The Angels said,” Mourn for man, for they head towards destroying themselves closer everyday within the wake of the knowledge we have given them.” Then God said,” You, My first of creations should know to keep faith within that which is unpredictable in them. They have many flaws but their souls hath be finer than a pure diamond.” We art His children in His image. And how beautiful we are. Vanity must not overwhelm us in our conceited nature of the world. Be meek but know thous own abilities and appreciate them for what they are. Hear my words all forms and thistles. One day this will end for thou. One day. Best feel what there is to feel. Do not die knowing there was more thou wanted and never attempted to experience. This memoir of my thoughts and history art my best way to help from my own mistakes and misgivings. What more can I possibly give thou upon which you may rest your head and know a guide looks out for your safety? Do not be stubborn. And Knoweth youself and follow your own voice.

Chapter IV
Rise from the ground, Serpents and Demons, then knoweth thous place amongst the powers with reality before us all. Tempt me not for I shall tempt back for the sake of My God. Tempt with the goodness that lives within all that is living or dead. Thous challenge only is to find a place among the entire race of man and still remain as you are with dignity and newly added purpose. Feel the flame within so that thou may find a true Paradise. The only comfort needed lies within thyself and can only be found by thyself. That is all that can be described of such a thing in this world. Find the answers within thyself. Rely above all on thyself.

2nd key
Chapter I
Love is… the most valuable thing a man beneath Gods whims may ask of. I loved once. Her name… Emily. She died from the carelessness of  man. I refuse to let thou experience that same pain. The feeling of such things is indescribable. Dear Lord, Thank you for knowing of that which causes me pain. ‘Tis only a short time I shall live but I promise to make it meaningful. Bless me with food, shelter, and a bed in which I may dream of thou whom I loveth the most. Upon this day I swear to know the world better than I know myself. Keep my breath going and let me die with my lover by my side and know I have done something great for people.

Chapter II
A real risk besets us all to this very day. The limit of questions. It is a real and very dangerous probability. There is a limit to everything in this reality except for our Lord. There is a genuine promised land. No matter whether the dark exceeds your sight as long as thou remains as such the path you tread upon shall become the light. Make the trail for those who follow in your footsteps. The surroundings matter not if you have your love by your side. The limit of questions limits thine life that can exist upon one plain. This is a secret of the angels of the stars.

Chapter III
Here is my riddle to you…

Fly beneath between and beyond the angel’s Road. Look up and all shall be revealed to thou who has the understanding. Take it down with a steam hammer to the depths known only to I. Cross my path and learn from what you hear. The writings of the angel’s point to what was the great people’s. The space between spaces is the holding for what you seek.

 

 

The Chelsea Grin

The Chelsea Grin

“They felt the presence of your blackened heart. They smelt the stench of you abject existence. They’ve come to cleanse your soul of it’s afflictions. You can’t repent for it’s far too late… Now they have gone and dissappeared without a… TRACE!!!”

Key I

The shadows bleed out from the tainted clock and fill you with the fear they need. If you think this is hell… YOU DON’T KNOW HALF OF IT! Your blackened piece of shit called a heart puts out a call to them with each time it beats. Your misguided transgressions cut and crush you while they lye upon your back. Cry in fear and know that this is all you have, nothing but Pain and Sorrow. There is no love there, in the place they live which has been defiled. So, ball up in shame and let them in. You have no choice left but to obey.

Key II

OH MY GOD!!! If they only knew! Once again, look at that Tainted clock and see it’s now counting down. Come on, Chelsea, GRIN FOR ME JUST ONCE.. Maybe it will sooth the burning for a damn minute. I’m absolutely dying to feel this special something.

Key III

Run! Run like you’ve never run before and feel like the timid little doe you are. Because they chase but they already know the way it began and will end and be no more.. Run through the streets and say everybody’s out to get me and any moment could be my last. This is it! You can take it or leave! When I die I will say on my own two feet… JUST BREATHE!!! Do you wanna touch it, baby? Or are you Just SCARED?! The Clock keeps counting down, faster and fast! Blinded by the self-conciousness, tell me, ARE YOU JUST SCARED?! Look around and tell me what you see when you look at me now.

Key IV

Why can’t you look at me now?! Brought back all the memories you tell me don’t exist.. Would you like to exist or Will you learn to forget?! Pitfalls lead to forget through all the suffering… I really wish I could bring these words to you in notes to make it shake your very being. Is this beginning to shout through you know? Shaking all those old tattered memories that we can still bring back. Can you remember all those laughs that were broken apart from that place in our early years. The spring ripples can wash back over me as I drown in pieces. Seeing double, I can drift through the water with no more cares. Thank god, there will never be an end. Float away with care or worry. The pain, the suffering, and all the sadness can finally be through. Washing away in the seas of blood-curdling screams.

Key V

Endless mazes crossfire around our Minds. The thoughts bounce around in our heads until the relief is a hair away from a bloodbath. I can’t remember why this crying shame turned into this massacre but the thoughts of the shadow-man won’t disappear. Watch it all whirl away in a storm of self-indulgence. Was it ever even fucking real?!

Key VI

Scratch it out and erase it all so that we can have the shot of starting all over again. What was the fucking name? The Blotted out form that we can all call a person? The shadow-man shows it all to me! He was the form of the crossed out me that I never had. He’s the New Millenium God of Cyanide! That courses through all from the inside out. Behold, the sacrificial lamb! The Black sheep that will cleanse us of our pain. They will now make our smiles real and everlasting to which we cannot return. The Shadows overturn and bring us too our knees. There is no more escaping! Am I dying or just breathing? The pain lives again with every breath I take!

PART DUEX’

Key I

Breaking my skin and vicing out my teeth! Can I stop reliving the pain from despair? Those shadows whirl around underneath my skin and bring me to a cleansed and sacrificial state of complex demise. It feels like they are delving deeper and tearing at my eyes. It’s not real. It’s not real. IT’S NOT REAL!!! Foam comes from my nostrils and the blackness consumes. It’s like I’m succumbing to the monstrous sulfur pain-waves. The sulfur runs from my eyes like TEARS!

Key II

My lungs have filled with their Arsenic laced inhalant called mercy and my fingers snap and break violently. My epileptic enduring fit of rehabilitation is almost past into a time before time or at least that’s how I lie to myself. As they slip out of the crack in my chest the relieved pain is disengaged. Crimson Flames bust out through my eyes making sulfuric fire-stacks of Crimson flavored melancholy.

Key III

A smoke stack pillar of sinful blackening exhausts from my nostrils and my eyes roll back. I can feel them swirling out of me in a force-filled cloud of awakening. Brought back around again, I can barely feel my senses. They flush out all in sequence. The death and delivery of my blackened soul stitches my mouth and makes me feel all alone!

Key IV

The black substance seeps out and splashes on the floor. One final touch and a smoothing of features. The light is now within me. I never was and Never am. Their mission is now complete as I lie naked and prostrate on the floor. What a meaning and what a fall! The shadowless black beings show to be of the light and bring me to the enlightenment. The barrage of evil has completely subsided within all as they exited my now cleansed being. Now I know… I can see the light!

Key V

They hunt! Spilling into shadows of the night. Pools of bitter inferiority are their skipping stones. They find you ceaselessly apathetic degenerates and bring the justice you deserve! The evil purifies and the Sonnet remains incomplete. The never ending smile falls onto your face. And then, Once again…

THEY HUNT!!!

SYNTH Pt.2

 

I walked down the desolate stretch of roadway. I know this is the beginning of the end and the night stays so quiet. All the people of the world are gone. The air whisps past my helmet as the cold air wraps it’s blanket of cold around me. The synthesized sounds of intention and feeling wrap my brain as I look out to the abandoned wastelands of the world shaded in night. “The curtain goes down, on him again…”, is all I hear from the artificial sounds eminating from my headphones as the world seems alone. Cold and distant.

The giant monoliths of human creation tower over me and the roadway I drive upon. Acting as god-like reminders of the wonder of this civilization come to pass. This new chapter that is beginning shall start in a note of euphoria and sorrow. The moon fills the night sky and cannot be missed. I hear,” The purge is about to begin!” “Whatever…”, I say is stone cold reply.

The behemoth gates slowly open for it’s treasures for the taking and with that I skid into the city of desolate horrors. My mind cannot be more clear. As I drop with my motorcycle in toe I pass by the vaults and statues to human engineering and I am saddened by what I see… In this mega-structure of a city, The only life is the little bit i bring into it…

Everyone littering the maze-like streets are nothing more than walking zombies… The Virus… A virus that sucks out all life from anything living that it touches. By now, Human beings are an endangered species. That’s the reason I’m here. I am one of a select few here to try and protect what little life is left in this post-humanity wasteland… And to find The Sources. Called by their codename, ‘Plagues’.

These plagues are the leaders of the walking corpses filling the walkways. Human like in all appearance but with minute genetic anomalies.

Suddenly, Fuyu appears to me within my helmet while I am in mid-free fall. Fuyu is a digital companion. A sort of projected companion that stays within my motorcycle. My motorcycle is an amazing piece of engineering. It is run completely off of magnets that drive it to speeds of near 700 mph. It has a streamlined design but is still big and bulky. Partially, because it carries weapons, and other needed items, as well as the main server for Fuyu to run off of as I operate the vehicle.

“Zero!”, Fuyu yells as I grasp back to reality. We drop hundreds of meters down through coloumns and pillars meant to support the mega-city, aptly called, “Havens”. “What Fuyu?”, I say in a calm and collected voice. Fuyu says, ” We have another 200 meters left to the bottom and I’ve done a pheremone scan and There is a Plague in close proximity.” “Roger.”.

The wind whistles wildly as I can see The ground approaching. BOOM! The impact thunders like a lightning storm as the concrete breaks apart all around me. The motorcycle pops a wheelie as I skid away towards the Frozen Tower. The Plague is waiting for me.

My speedometer reads a steady 666.67 MPH. I can feel the sound of my gloves as my hands tighten around the throttle. The synthesized wails groan in my head as the world passes by as a blur around me. The sadness is enough to make people fall to their knees. And still all I can hear in my head is,” The Curtain goes down, On Him Again.” I am prepared. And I am ready…

LET THE PURGE BEGIN

TO BE CONTINUED…

The Tainted Clock

Based on the short story “The Clock” by writer Kari Fay

 Let me first thank Kari Fay for allowing me to use her short story as a starting point. And don’t worry Grimm fans, I will put my original Grimm Slant on it. Please give me feedback… \m/ -_-\m/

Hearts with bandaids and Reflections that never Cease

——————————————————————————————————————

What is a reflection, truly? Just a mirror image of a world or is it you without the ability to feel?

The Dampening forest patters with raindrops dropping from heaven with the intention of only putting a light glaze of moisture onto everything. Almost as if to remind everything who is truly in charge. The damp fall leaves on the ground surround the bare gray tree trunks and the silence remains undisturbed.

The house that lies in this eternally shaded meadow hides beneath the trees. Hand cut logs and straw seem to be the only materials put into it. The crudely cut logs show the amount of care put into this building. This was meant to be somebody’s home. A place where happiness can be shared…. But now it stands as a Revenant Idol to a judgment long past and memories that have been forgotten in the haze of time.

My ancestors made this Haven.  A hideaway for descendants of all times.

I walk through the leaves and they leave a refreshing feel of water on my toes and ankles. The light dew from the rain sparkles in rainbows from the slivers of light that manage to peak through the green forest leaves. This place… It’s like I’ve been here a million times before even though this is the first time. When the door opens it makes a rectangle of light illuminate part of the room where it’s Darker than Black.

This place is bare. One lonely window looks out to the never ending forest like a gaze lost in time… I take the candles off of the desk and try to get the one room cabin visible inside. As I walk around I see the shadows of where picture frames used to be. Nothing remains on the walls. Like somebody took them down because they wanted to forget about those memories.

My family originated in  Salem. Our clan had to hide from the people of the time because we were hunted down as witches. We inherit the power through the women in our clan. Entire Generations of women in our family- Slaughtered and put into mass graves… Only one thing remains of them… The one thing still on the wall…The Clockwork Grimm… It was a clock invented by the oldest and most powerful of our ancestors… It is a pendulum clock. Deep redish wood container with platinum hands and pendulum. Looks like it hasn’t aged a day. It’s purpose is to keep slowly counting down until the age of our clan is over.

They knew that the Season of the witch would end and so they made the Clockwork Grimm to let us know when. It contains the memories from all that came before. And when you look into the Glass reflection, you can see them. Standing all around you…

With a candle in my hand, I carefully walk over to the ClockWork Grimm. I am scared of what I might see. But as I stand before it, I try to build up the courage to lift the candle to make a reflection in the glass. I see the Clockwork Grimm reads at 2:59 A.M.. Less than one minute until it reads 3 in the morning. Odd because it is actually 11:23 A.M..

Quickly I raise my candle and open my eyes when it is at the write height.

Dozens of shadows. Women dressed like pilgrims. But one shadow of a young girl stands next to me in the reflection. After a long silence from shock, the young shadow woman mutters,” You fucking disappoint me. Maybe you’re better off this way…”

The exact second she finishes, the Clockwork Grimm Strikes 3:00 A.M. and chimes a bell alarm once. The shadows in the glass walk out through the door and leave me.

The Clockwork Grimm Ticks no more. All the shadows walk away without a word. And after All the shadows are gone I once again hear in my head.

“You fucking disappoint me. Maybe your better Off this way…”

Days of Hell’s Winter – The Book of The Angry Princess

The Book of The Angry Princess

1st Key
Chapter I
Within the window of my overly self-conscious self I feel the tides of my self-hate grow to no end. O how I hate these tides of lying men and women who tell me over and over how I truly am beautiful. What outrageous lies! But what burns within my heart the most? Those men who constantly used and abused me in the name of their own happiness. Erase. Rewrite it. Rewrite it with an unforgettable sense of presence. I do not believe I can return from the brink once again. Crossing out all that is me, maybe I can improve what once was called me. That shining edge seems so lustful towards my skin as I watch it slide against me so wantingly. What brilliance is felt from that bright beam of light. Within my eyes… I am blinded… Sorrow… May my beauty be no more.

Chapter II
I have become crossed out from the picture and overly self-apathetic. This perpetuated folly called my existence can be no more. The skin I lay bare for you this time shall be the last and nevermore again. Be pleased with the little of beauty I have and use and abuse this defiled body. I care for it no longer. What is it’s use to me? Hand me the knife so that may give credence to the scribbles that I shall make palpable all over my body. Scribbles cut into my flesh and all self-reliances given in blood-stained propaganda. By thus means my self-worth is mutilated beyond even my own recognition. What a sweet victory ignorance is.

Chapter III
Quiver, you degenerate fuck, if you have the nerve to mutilate my spirit more than it already is. Any bliss I feel ranks only as ‘Quasi una fantasia’. This manipulative reign of self-judgment can no longer last. Rip it out once and for all and maybe I can float away in this river of blood. How does it feel to hear my masochistic story? Well, then how would you feel to know it’s true. These be but not the words of someone else but they are the words known and told from my blood-stained lips.

The Book of The Bound Woman (EXPLICIT)

Ok… I’ll probably regret this but I’m gonna put up The finished sections in ‘Days of Hell’s Winter’… I know it’s a little racy but don’t judge me for it like I actually feel the things that are written. They are supposed to be stories/scarlette stories told from the point of view of the character. I’m pushing limits with this one and consulted with women while writing it so partial credit has to go to Staci Kenner for her input. I hope you are satisfied with this compilation of scarlette stories and I guess tell me what you think…

Some people may be offended by the following writings. It is meant to be a portrayal. This is the second book out of the coming 13 books in Days of Hell’s Winter. Even my editor hasn’t seen these yet so ENJOY!!!

🙂

The Book of The Bound Woman
(X censored)

1st key
Chapter I
How The world loveth my pleasures for which I am known throughout. My company falls upon no deaf ears and my commitment is non-existent. The common pleasures you all abide by shall be the death of you for you heard it be known from my lips. There are but no secrets to be knownst of me and my prosperity of libido have no limits that I am aware of. I have to use those who think they use me. That cruel symbiotic relationship tunes within my broken hearted despairity and brings those razors I love so much closer to my womb. Am I the whore you want? That dirty girl that you dream of so often within the libido driven fantasies you so adimently deny exist? Why should I have shame? Tell me what you really want. Those deep dark desires that flow within the failings with the women you, O, so wish you could ravage. It all ends the same. Ask the man that put me within this dispotic realm simply for the reason of my not caring for those whom I used to fill that gaping whole within my chest.

Chapter II
I drive myself off the dark desires that destroy you but make me more than human within my own right. Bleed your heart out upon the floor so I can continue to drink off of the life within all of you. Fuck me. Treat me like I’m not even a human being. You know I love it. It fills me up just as you do. The man I treat like garbage is nothing but such a fool. I deserve what is best around me and will have all of it. Enjoy the carnal desires with me. The silver spoon I was born with in my mouth is but something which has no value and can affordably be called less than nothing. With what do you plan to continue to try to bribe my lust with?

2nd Key
Chapter I
My drained will for life is the death of me. Taste my beloved cyanide kiss. My fluids are made of Vitriolic acid and the burning sulfer sustains that hollow spot in my chest. Because you, Dear murderer, Took a bite out of that piece of shit I called a heart. My beloved killer who raped my body and then disposed of my essence is a true,”Hero without a ‘Name’.”The closest name I can but give you is The grim despair that seeps from my sorrow. My seed has infected too many for me to be left without punishment… Please… I want you to beat me… Rape me! Defile me! Copulate within me and give me what I truly want from the abuse.

Chapter II
The sickness falls from the death of me and braces what I thought was real. The bones of my spine pertrude from my neck and my hands stay bound. In my dress of queens I slowly weep. My crown stitched to my forehead and with my hands tied behind my back I AM The Bound Woman. Shivering in this winter of Hell, I slowly and calmly Wait and Bleed.

Chapter III
Feel the warmth of my breasts against your skin and the taste the sweat rolling from the small of my back. Lick my skin with the rot developing from your salivating mouth and envelope my body in your putrid warmth. Bloodlust filled apathy is but my cause and folly. Lo, the lust may be but your downfall as I lay my womb upon you. Maker of the carnal diseases and fulfiller of the violent sex-driven fantasies which are stricken upon you which you have the audasity to beg to resist. Gruesome mockeries of grotesque penetrations fuel my salivation for the seed that lies within you, oh so waiting to be released within me. Let me know I am flourishing off of the life you could’ve made with it getting sacrificed to me.

Chapter IV
Slide the grotesque piece of shit you call your “Love for Me” across my body and bathe me in the fluids You know I want. It may sound absurd now but know that , I , above all people have the skill to create such lust to make that incestual fantasy your only drive. What a morbid curiousity you hold. The fruit of such a infernal union shall be but a devil to you and to the world you take for granted. Beg for it and crawl like the bitch you are at my feet. And lastly, Obey.

2nd Key

Chapter I
Become my Holy disciples of Emptiness. Drop your hopes for the shit it is and embrace my body with your arms, cut up from the pleasing agony, and raise me up on high where I belong. Legs splayed and hopes broken in two, we shall rot togethor in our incestual lunacy we call Hell’s Winter and Never again shall we fall to those depths we’ve been hoping for all along. It can’t all just be bleached away as if it all were black and white in this hypocritical mediocrity called The World. Fill me again and never leave me like I have done to so many. Lo, you be left yourself.

Exclusive Preview of ‘White Pony’

White Pony

“… We can take a ride on a black horse. A grey, New Wave Hesparian Death Horse…”

Beaches… Woven with an innocent simplicity. Sometimes it will make you wonder if anything else ever existed at all… I was always amazed at how the ocean seemed to have no memory. The footprints left in the sand would disappear into nothingness before they ever existed. If the ever existed at all.

But…

It never did exist anywhere other than the canvas that holds my dreams… The reality, though, is a wasteland of chemical kids and concrete play-pens. Synthetic souls in an Artificial cage. The streets stand cloaked in the colmatose bodies of the new drugged up generation. The only generation deserving of the “Silent Generation” title. A generation of sleep. There is no Ocean anymore. No one cares anymore. They Never did.

They lay strewn across shopping carts and piles of televisions. While they lay with their gasmasks on, they have no more cares or concerns. Streets empty and cluttered with old newspapers. The city has come to a hault. No one moves like they once did.This city is only a shadow of the Monolith she once was. Apathy at it’s best. The sky shifts and the light strikes the fog that surrounds the city. It is a dome for the dreamers.

As I walk through the biggest highway, which now stands empty and stale, I look to our new fake sky… The new false stars peek through The Fog and give a bleek outlook on a lovely but phoney dream.

I’m not all there anymore-If I ever even was… I start walking down the streets and they are covered with the miriad shades of intoxication. You People fucking dissapoint me. Maybe it’s time to just walk away and say that I’ll ride off on a white pony into the toxic, smog infested, sunset. While all of you lye in a permanent sleep, intoxicated with your gas masks full of your apathy drug fumes.

I am the Rule of One. The only and the apathetic. The Giant bridge before the highway I tread upon shadows me… “Ah, That feels nice. If that is what you call feeling…” The colors of the sky radiate a technicolor rainbow of emotion. About when the time this new ‘Downfall of us All” generation started.

DEVIL MAY CARE

Well It’s everyone who actually looks at this sites lucky day… Not only am I gonna give all of you a bunch of previews of brand new works but I’ve also found and finally decide to release some old stuff thats pretty… Controversial… 😉

This is and Older one I found

DEVIL May CArE

I’m Inside Your Head

Vol. 1

I’m inside your Head!!! Breathing and singing from your sleep and warring with my flame in the day. For one second look beyond your brokenhearted dissolution and remember to choke. As if choking on the words weren’t enough, you have to blind us with mediocrity. The spinning and the crying turn into screams and the voice you hear is bringing you to a terrible demise. Why can’t I get away from you with all your bullshit and self-induced melancholic lies! Self-pity bringing you down to a whole new low.

The compositional feigning is just ridiculous at this late hour. But your ever changing want is flaming to the ever changing point. Can you still hear my Voice inside your head?! If so then stop acting juxtapose to your own reflection of what you wish you could be! Cautious warnings are for the faint of heart. This is a fucking Promise! Stop being so goddamn pretentious about what you are! You can’t tell your ass from your own hand! What you make is shit! How could you be disgraceful enough to even have the thought? You’re like an Atom! A motherfucking Atom!

Can you hear me? Fluttering through your memories like a long lost thought that will never reappear? Slideshows of tormented grief empty out my empathy and leave me with a few more things to say. Crossed into the shape of butterflies, your silence stays golden in mine eye. Scarlet Stains the blackened violent thoughts through our head. The crimson flows into the emptiness. Sweet scarlet pools fill the abyss in our mind and caress the emptiness of our condition. You recreant muse, what do you think is the key? The overwhelming hidden hex to fulfill the awesomely negative ether in your improbably tainted disillusioned essence?

The truth of the matter is you were never in control… The voices block all golden hope to your thoughts… The overwhelming sense of hopelessness emerges into the blackness and the folly begins to taint it all!

NOW YOU’RE INSIDE MY HEAD!!!

DEVIL-MAY-CARE

Quelling my natural psychotropic theme of regret, my inhibitions lead me to despair. Running in circles is tantamount to my subjective raising of the Dead. Spilling into pools of shadows maybe I can reconvene to some sort of falling out. Spilling into puddles of sorrow… The glyphs of times passed brush my ill-gotten gains creating a wave of discomfort through my core.

Dripping and bleeding down through the hollow cracks in my center, my mindless self-indulgence begins to take control. The raindrops sing as they fall and smash into the world, showing not how they are such a miracle of the ignored. The Black, The clothes, The intellectual hierarchy only shows that you really don’t understand anything that you aren’t yourself.

Do you know the answers to the questions I want to know? Those hidden truths that you find, oh so, invaluable? Does it even scratch one word into your essence? Bring forth some type of primordial questioning? To think with feeling and not intellect is the one thing you could never understand. I know that you wonder yourself if you’re even capable of feeling anything anymore?

The blankness chloroforms it all into the bleached out gray that seeps out from pillared scarlet smoke stacks that eminate from my emblazoned crimson eyes. Recreant misuse of the tiny amount of the pure blue light within us all diminishes us to be nothing but the never finished melancholic sonnet brought forth by the wretched. The unrealizing way of us as a people don’t fall upon deaf ears. But the screams of the ones below have not been heard by us. And to think we dare call ourselves advanced. It all mutilates us in our unpopulated scorn of divine light.

We are the crudely populated generation in the grips of extortion by the hands of those who held the world before us. The Angel hierarchy fall in sequence to tune of our dying hearts. Bright blackly lit wings and reflections of gold armor that were our excuses fly down past us all.

DHW Book of the Jackal

Ok now… I have never posted this up so I hope you guys enjoy it…From my Days of Hells Winter Series

COMING SOON!

The Book of The Jackal

1st Key
Chapter 1

From the ice grows the misdeeds of the world. Let it be known as the fault of the world for the creation of such a being in such suffering but yet causes such misery. May we know the fault of such evils that we unknowingly bring forth. We grip the razor blades that cut us so deep close to our hearts. Those slices are our love and our comfort. Bring forth the animal within ourselves, caged and shackled by its’ own want, to strike the terror into us that we so desire. O, Jackal, how you have been twisted by our wants so. May we bind him, contort him, and abandon him in the shadows only for him to still fear the fiery blackness which grows out forth from him. O, so beckoning to have its’ lusts released upon us that we have instilled within his own reflection. His tears fall upon sacred ground. Before the saints in which he serves, He takes upon his back all fault of man and the crushing transgressions of our masochistic pure-black wants… With his head caged, arms twisted as the wants of the hypocritical sinners, and his shaven teeth… May you know him. For you have made this beautiful breed of lunacy and forthright you shall be judged by Him. His tears of insatiable crucifixion of the ones the lost one knows he should not hurt but lust-filled seas of pure savagery will freeze the world within its’ own Athiestic melancholy…

Chapter II

That pure lust for savagery overcomes us in our arrogant times of disarray and pulls these words down to but a fragment of what it means to be truly explained. When the contorted and disfigured arm of The Jackal reigns upon us and slams, only to seal our fate, We shall be but a shred of what even the lowest pits of the well perceive to be truly fading to black. Cross not your heart and swear to die for This utterly gorgeous blasphemy may be exactly what is to be upon the masses you so claim you love. The shreds of the Jackals’ victims shall make the Coat of a new king of a frozen kingdom. Of which our darkest nature will be visible. These malicious masquerades bring forth the masks we want to be seen as. When He removes our filters and our covers from us, to truly reveal what is ourselves, we shriek such that is would crack the stars. The Jackal is what we choose to ignore about the lustfully self-punishing cross-bearer of ourselves. The kiss of the hate and melancholy crosses the barriers we can imagine and fuels His rage and torment. Mistake not our fault for the world of carelessness and low cost of life we live within that was created and is sustained by us, the ones who try to stop ourselves from what others do not find pleasurable and thus tighten our own straight-jackets.

2nd Key
Chapter I
He was of no importance to no one. Is it not horrible of how he knew of his own lunacy? The Man knew of the animal within and refused those fateful acts than define us all with our own queries. To shield the world of the wicked claws he bore, he shackled himself within the restraints of that which is the institution made by corrupt men in order to purify others. The Critical irony which all this produces. He knew of the seeping darkness that leaked through his own mind and would not allow the darkness of his lusts which he repressed to be ravaged upon those whom created it such. A saint with the sickness of the dark well full of darkness whom had come about through the wretched and rancid womb of a whore sacrificed all for just being. Who is nobler than such?

Chapter II
The tempetuous lines we cross bring forth such nightmares that we unknowingly bring into this world. Tattering to pieces the thought of which innocence might be maintained through the libituous findings available within the knowing the difference between the Infinite and the finite things we find throughout this realm. Watch the blood-stained Snowflakes fall to the ground. O, How the Crimson snow is the sign of How Black Hell’s winter May truly be.

Chapter III
Disciples! Come and Fall with me! And see the birth of the new Human race! Bow to your God of Cyanide! The New Millenium Cyanide Christ! Let it all freeze over along with my claws! The whores you love are what I am of! Can you feel the icy scratches yet? While I sit upon my throne of Ice covered within the skin of your transgressions, don’t you ever wonder why? Why you made such a thing? The product of your pendolum swaying, throwing your blood from opposite to crimson cloud! Let me cross the Devils bridge to my home once again, to return to my snow covered fortress in which my War table of Ice is governed from the savagery you hold deep within. My court table of Ice reigns Infinitely!

3rd Key
Chapter I
My doomed fallout says nothing other than how my greatness of oblivion rules within. Bride my dear beloved cold and Iced death for which the grave brings but memories of the home I had to leave. Floweth forth that great Red that belongs forth as is said. Incise. Replace. Deplete it all. Just awaiting the unraveling to unleash the ravishing. Black imperfections shed the light we need onto the moments we heed no attention to cherish.

Chapter II
Crack. Snap. Replace. How long will this symbiotic ambigram remain misunderstood… The Most interesting word made of all Human skin. Pull back the red, virgin skin across the back of your ears and tell me is it all still the same. Plot forth to regain all we thought we’d never have. Cold stone brings it all back once again to the way it once was. My banshee screams chill you to your very essence so easily? Spinning in circles with my eyes blinded, screaming,”WHY AM I ALIVE?!”

The Final Transformation
Bones turn to bars as the Vitriolic acid brings back the High. Wrap that cold steel around my blinded face and finally let that beast out from within. On all fours, Can’t you understand my archaic growls? Or is the black seeping from my eyes only but a distraction? Tranquility brings out the torture and Block away all the inconsistincies and look it in the eyes! Smooth forth the creation of features and pin my ribs closer to my insides. The dues of inhalation are what brings that gutteral scream for mercy that you hear. Flip my picture around and read the written flesh. Lady death holds my string in two from now on. As I crawl on all fours with the black pouring from my bolt infused mouth and eyes, the ice flows forth from my hands… The only Jackal within.

TO BE CONTINUED…

-Alucard GrimmJow Lx