TehDMCmaniac

Again it is that darkness looms. In lightless silence, beneath the rain A lonesome strife deigns to bloom. And once again do you feel pain. Surely it has grown banal. Such a fate can only appall, and hurt. What gall! A flood, Yet difficult to divert. But here I am, and so are you. We stand together in brittle silence, We stand beneath the pouring rain. Again it is that you feel pain, Your suffering so ever-stark, And without a single inkling of denial All I can do is stand. All I can do is smile. Because you, my dear; surely you see? Somewhere far, entombed in seams Lies a star. Of azure dreams. Somewhere near, as this sky bleeds There is

A dark night descended upon the earth With birdless silence and a chill. But somewhere far, up on a hill A strange new thing calls from my girth. Beneath the waves of this foul ocean Far beyond the reach of sorrow, A tiny smile, a small devotion And two eyes that still are hollow. I see it often within my dreams. Those snow-crunching steps, how could I forget? A puppet of smoke -- so small! -- and seams Striding on a path unset. Then, afar, I behold the mountains. The bird above, the scent of salt. Fountains. All split by Zeus' bolt. The smoke man scatters, the birds fall dead. The mountains crumble, and... nothing. I awake To the song of

One----- . . . . . . A breath. His broken chest wheezes in death. Thunder. Thunder. Thunder. Thunder. Thunder. His cry tears the sky asunder! Roaring with a righteous hunger He lunges. The hunter. Bloodied howls in his wake. Blood follows, for his sake. No man is left awake... *** Two--- . . . . His girth withstood a lightning. A wrath divine rained on his sighting But the shadow garnered faith, and strength! Its blade was drawn, a sheen its length. But it... he... it had died, a while past. "It died!" the forest cried, aghast When the shadow moved. A step. *** Three-...! . . . In that night, a visage dreary Before that sight, an e

Pointlessness is the breath of all that is to be. This is the way that I see. No one is free... I listen to the piano's sound. Heard or no, the ripple sings Traveling in rings. My tears are boring. Pointless, even, are they not? What does crying achieve? Hope? No, survival causes hope. Crying? Being? Mere existence rejects salvation. There is no hope... Not at all, 'least not for me. But if not I, then who shall live? I gaze at the world so purely, and still... But maybe therein lies the folly. Whilst I teeter, others live wholly. How...? It is sad. I alone dare see the dawn. I alone pursue this Heaven! So why, do I, tire? Living tires

These little sounds Like fireflies... They take me away To foreign skies. With these words broken My thoughts piece together. And... Sentences. Together... A song... I am alone... In meadows green... Can we both smile? This gives our hopes denial. And the snow is so cold tonight... Autumn has come. There's a little wind. Time is frozen for me still. Can songs escape small, frozen lips? A new smile for each new day, is the only answer. A run in darkness, and it feels so pointless. There is no way to tell speed nor distance here. Actions are unseen... Only thoughts are clean and, I... Am armed ... with... Intention. My eyes are bleeding

How am I supposed to explain this feeling? In reality, I have no way to know if it's love or not in advance. I have nothing to compare it to, and yet the feeling is there, like a small whisper in my chest. There's nothing else it can be, and I know it even if I refuse to accept it. It's strange. I wake up in the morning after an uneasy night of odd dreams. Dreams of missing appointments, failing to retain my consciousness, but occasionally, dreams of hopeful things. I wake up after all that and I feel weirder each day. Right off the bat I end up thinking about you. My interest in daily things thins, replaced by an ever growing hope of gettin

In the unsurprising darkness do I draw closer. Before me lies a house. In the dance of moon, in the light of day I still stand in wonder. I've no home. It has been false. Day. Light is like a sharpened blade. The ground is cut and torn asunder, its bleeding womb a mark of hunger And why? An unimbibed thunder born down under... what? In breathless wonder, amazement, astounded blunder A day. Week. Incidents. A week. My words ended. A retaliation brutal      Utter rebuttal! I have no power Condemned by a glower, I cower as the enemy flower and flower! Losing sight of my tower, I wonder, I wander, I vower. Valour! Incessant fire.      Mire.

For this I cry, For when will I die? The child waning scribbles true In my void of blue. Trust is the sound of death But first, we need a breath. The dust can settle later. Later. Cater, do we to our needs? Cater, truly, to the deeds? The silent bows, silent flows; Hope... It snows. It grew frigid. This existence proved too rigid. Trust can only echo at the start, The rest, you leave to heart. Can I truly live so free? Can I truly shackle glee? A prisoner of spilled temptation was, Never was, a valid cause. Yet sorrow paves the way anew, To smear the sky again with blue. I never did see the stars... Never mind the nears, the fars. Then

Once there stood a man. Once, he had a plan. Once, just then; a dream Once, no more, would his flicker gleam. Sparks. They fly about. So... strong... Yet so... pathetic! Born of fire -- destruction's youth. Born to mire our deepest truth. Born to die and die again Born for freedom -- Born in vain. I look into this fractured mirror But one's beholder draws not nearer. Thunderstruck, his voice bleeds in song --Not for long. Crimson words bathe in sanity -- Free of vanity. It drips, it drops --Damn your toxic crops! His angels cry in the choir of tears --There stand no fears. The mirror-man smiles with malice. Why? Why is he so content?

In the beginning there was only one. Praising the beauty, Mired by song, One came to this land in search of his reflection. In the beginning there was but one. Amused by existence, Infused with resistance, One came to this land to avoid his reflection. And... At first, there was none. The eagle of shattered swords, An idea born anew, None came to this land in search of a reflection. For, in the end, we needed None to remind us, That, in the beginning, since the beginning, Forever after, there will always be But only One.