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Literature Text
My blood is enthralled.
Intrigued by lust.
I have done it once and I will do it again.
Fulfilling the pleasure.
The desire
to slaughter your throat.
I have never did anything to you before
yet you did horribly to me.
It is time for reckoning
And I will do the honour.
Intrigued by lust.
I have done it once and I will do it again.
Fulfilling the pleasure.
The desire
to slaughter your throat.
I have never did anything to you before
yet you did horribly to me.
It is time for reckoning
And I will do the honour.
Literature
Fallen
When I was little, I held my hands up
and there was always a bigger pair
there to pick me up, raise me up
Dark and cold both accumulate near the ground
but I had found
a path to heaven, now forgotten
as the earth turns 'round;
So overcome by confusion, how...?
I can't cast my demons out
one devil still pulls me down
off the earth and off my gentle cloud
I lay upon the ground,
bloodied, broken, beaten down
and lament my fate, silenced now
He recalls his immoralities as if
they were someone else's little slips
and though his words have scarred me
much deeper than any knife or whip
he parades through town, a man, a god
going on about life as
Literature
A Graveyard
We’re sick enough to spill someone else’s blood,
paint a picture of ourselves with it, and call it love.
I guess that’s what the ego does
when it forgets the bodies we’ve become will eventually turn back to dust.
We’ve held onto the worst parts of our nature,
tried to survive on rotten fruits of our labor—
maggot filled and mangled flesh, should’ve seen it as a sign,
but lately we’ve been complaining that the apple hasn’t been tasting right.
Taste buds blossom and reach up for the taste of death,
spit spilling out our lips, smoke collecting in our chests,
hands erecting effigies
Literature
Specter
How many years have I roamed through these halls?
I search for something that I cannot find.
The darkness encloses, pressing on me;
I exist in a vacuum: bodiless.
I must have done something terribly wrong
To go on for the remainder of time
With needles tearing the skin I don’t have,
I gasp for air to fill lungs that aren’t there.
I search through the halls to look for myself.
The screams I hear can only be my own.
I wish I knew what I did to deserve
Such a dreadfully empty existence
So I could beg a shred of forgiveness.
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this has been in my phone for almost 2 months already.I want to post it here but somehow I felt like something is missing.the sense of incomplete still longing,mingling in my mind.And I hope that someone who read this might be able to help me to find what is that thing that is missing exactly.
© 2014 - 2024 AlbtraumDamon
Comments2
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Quite dark. We often think about revenge but most of us resist the temptation. We have to take responsibility for the decisions we make. Bloody but enthralling.