Death whispers sweet nothings into deep sleep.
Change is coming and chaos is here.
Embrace it like an old friend.
The anger filling up.
Reaching and flickering like a growing flame.
Drowning all caught in it's path like a flood.
A flood of flame.
Tearing and ripping flesh to pieces not hearing pleas for mercy.
Riots in the streets caused by one powerful thought of destruction.
Heart stopping pleasure in the thought of pure agonized pain.
Unstoppable forces creating more than imagined.
More than any nightmare could dare.
Scisors snapping bone, teeth tearing meat.
When the blood drips down the throat of the beast it growls low in exstacy.
Warmth stolen from another chilling the core of existence.
No way to heat a cold flame.
No way to cool a boiling ice.
Reality is no more and chaos is everything.
Futile attempts at sacrifice to redeem favor.
The laughing never stops.
It will haunt you forever.
It will rape you of all you could have been.
It is your joy.
It is your torture.
It is your masochistic pleasure.
It is your demise.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Surreality
You’re running and running,
Nothing but blackness surrounds you.
Drip, drip, drip; you hear their drool falling to the tunnels’ floor behind you.
Stumbling over rocks and broken glass your bare feet leave bloody trails.
The beasts will follow you until the sun, which you still can’t see.
Gargled panting breaths escape the monsters.
They crave you, their favorite treat.
Hopeless, panicked, purposeless meat,
Dripping a trail of blood to their dinner table.
Sharp turns take you by surprise,
Leaving bloody marks on the walls where your face hits so suddenly.
Like flies to a light the bloody walls act as beacons to the creatures.
You can almost feel the heat vision seeking you out.
The floor gives way and you fall to your certain demise.
Icy cold envelopes you stealing your breath,
Cold turns to warmth and thankfulness as you see the sun through the ripples above you.
You start thrashing, you need to feel that heat, the brightness.
Swimming higher and higher you breach the surface,
Staring into the sky gasping for breath confusion penetrates you.
Beside the bright sun is a hole… in the sky.
Like a shattered window the blue sky gives way to the blackness of the tunnel.
Jagged edges tear at the void filled with nightmares,
They hiss and choke scrambling away from the light.
Their melting flesh falling in chunks from the hole,
Splashing all around you.
The sun, the air, the salt water, the rotting corpses,
All so amazing and joyous to your now contented soul.
Nothing but blackness surrounds you.
Drip, drip, drip; you hear their drool falling to the tunnels’ floor behind you.
Stumbling over rocks and broken glass your bare feet leave bloody trails.
The beasts will follow you until the sun, which you still can’t see.
Gargled panting breaths escape the monsters.
They crave you, their favorite treat.
Hopeless, panicked, purposeless meat,
Dripping a trail of blood to their dinner table.
Sharp turns take you by surprise,
Leaving bloody marks on the walls where your face hits so suddenly.
Like flies to a light the bloody walls act as beacons to the creatures.
You can almost feel the heat vision seeking you out.
The floor gives way and you fall to your certain demise.
Icy cold envelopes you stealing your breath,
Cold turns to warmth and thankfulness as you see the sun through the ripples above you.
You start thrashing, you need to feel that heat, the brightness.
Swimming higher and higher you breach the surface,
Staring into the sky gasping for breath confusion penetrates you.
Beside the bright sun is a hole… in the sky.
Like a shattered window the blue sky gives way to the blackness of the tunnel.
Jagged edges tear at the void filled with nightmares,
They hiss and choke scrambling away from the light.
Their melting flesh falling in chunks from the hole,
Splashing all around you.
The sun, the air, the salt water, the rotting corpses,
All so amazing and joyous to your now contented soul.
Story Part 2
Soda looks carefully around the corner, “Man? You okay?”
“I’m fine… look at my shoulder,” I say.
His eyes go wide, “what the hell? Where’d they go?”
That’s what I’d like to know, I think as I stare down slightly at an angle to my now unmarked skin. I close the bathroom door and pick up the pro-wrap and ointment that I had dropped, taking off my chain and binder I hang them on the door behind me. Slipping out of my boxers I step into the shower, the water as hot as it will go feels cold on my back and neck. Burning the skin red everywhere else, I begin to become even more confused. Did I do nerve damage with that gash that ‘was’ there? What the hell happened to it anyway? I saw it there clear as day and so did Soda. So very, very strange, eventually I step out of the shower and dry off. Sore as hell I wrap a towel around me and fall heavy on the couch, “you sure I didn’t hit my head man? It’s killing me,” I asked and stated.
Soda looks over from the computer, “yah, man I’m sure. Your head was fine, or well, as fine as it ever is,” he says while rolling his eyes.
I mumble thanks while flipping him the bird. I pass out into a restless sleep.
I wake up the next day and Soda had gone to work, the power had gone out while I was asleep I assumed because all the clocks were set back. Then I noticed not only were they set back but also continuing to go farther back, I had no idea what time it was but the sky was dark with clouds. The hairs on the back of my neck stiffen, as all of a sudden I’m on guard, nervous. There’s a crash in the laundry room and I run to the kitchen and grab a knife from the drawer. Pulse racing and breathing heavy I inch back toward the living room in the dark. Knife out in front I creep toward the door and stop short when I see that it’s been cracked open. It was closed when I went to the kitchen. Almost blind in fear I smell something; moist rust. Nearly paralyzed in pure terror as the smell registers in my mind as blood I swing around slicing at the air. The tip of the knife catches something and I feel wetness on my hand but see nothing in front of me. Another crash in the laundry room and I noticed the front door is now wide open. I run over and there’s nothing, the screen door is swinging slowly shut at the top of the stairs. I step into the laundry rooms’ pitch-blackness and the light’s all snap back on. I hear a whoosh from the hot water tank as it kicks back to life. Looking around I see large scratches all across the top of the washer and dryer, something had been perched there and it was something big. One step at a time I walk farther into the room when I notice something on the ground. Bending down by the dryer I see that it’s a small droplet of blood and I feel a random pang of sadness and hunger flash over me. Confused for a second I brush it off as nothing, I spot something just under the machine. Shining white I pick it up; a razor edged tooth is in the palm of my hand. Wide eyed, I think back and recall slicing something with my knife and feeling wetness but no blood. It must have been saliva from this beast. All of a sudden I jump up, compelled with an urge to clean off the tooth. Running to the bathroom I run the cold water over the tooth and wash the blood and spit off of it. Moving it around in my hand I feel it’s sharp edges accidentally slicing my finger on the point. Very sharp, I think to myself as I wander back to the futon. Laying down I continue to hold the tooth in my hand tightly pressed to my chest. I drift off into a confusing and terrifying dream.
“I’m fine… look at my shoulder,” I say.
His eyes go wide, “what the hell? Where’d they go?”
That’s what I’d like to know, I think as I stare down slightly at an angle to my now unmarked skin. I close the bathroom door and pick up the pro-wrap and ointment that I had dropped, taking off my chain and binder I hang them on the door behind me. Slipping out of my boxers I step into the shower, the water as hot as it will go feels cold on my back and neck. Burning the skin red everywhere else, I begin to become even more confused. Did I do nerve damage with that gash that ‘was’ there? What the hell happened to it anyway? I saw it there clear as day and so did Soda. So very, very strange, eventually I step out of the shower and dry off. Sore as hell I wrap a towel around me and fall heavy on the couch, “you sure I didn’t hit my head man? It’s killing me,” I asked and stated.
Soda looks over from the computer, “yah, man I’m sure. Your head was fine, or well, as fine as it ever is,” he says while rolling his eyes.
I mumble thanks while flipping him the bird. I pass out into a restless sleep.
I wake up the next day and Soda had gone to work, the power had gone out while I was asleep I assumed because all the clocks were set back. Then I noticed not only were they set back but also continuing to go farther back, I had no idea what time it was but the sky was dark with clouds. The hairs on the back of my neck stiffen, as all of a sudden I’m on guard, nervous. There’s a crash in the laundry room and I run to the kitchen and grab a knife from the drawer. Pulse racing and breathing heavy I inch back toward the living room in the dark. Knife out in front I creep toward the door and stop short when I see that it’s been cracked open. It was closed when I went to the kitchen. Almost blind in fear I smell something; moist rust. Nearly paralyzed in pure terror as the smell registers in my mind as blood I swing around slicing at the air. The tip of the knife catches something and I feel wetness on my hand but see nothing in front of me. Another crash in the laundry room and I noticed the front door is now wide open. I run over and there’s nothing, the screen door is swinging slowly shut at the top of the stairs. I step into the laundry rooms’ pitch-blackness and the light’s all snap back on. I hear a whoosh from the hot water tank as it kicks back to life. Looking around I see large scratches all across the top of the washer and dryer, something had been perched there and it was something big. One step at a time I walk farther into the room when I notice something on the ground. Bending down by the dryer I see that it’s a small droplet of blood and I feel a random pang of sadness and hunger flash over me. Confused for a second I brush it off as nothing, I spot something just under the machine. Shining white I pick it up; a razor edged tooth is in the palm of my hand. Wide eyed, I think back and recall slicing something with my knife and feeling wetness but no blood. It must have been saliva from this beast. All of a sudden I jump up, compelled with an urge to clean off the tooth. Running to the bathroom I run the cold water over the tooth and wash the blood and spit off of it. Moving it around in my hand I feel it’s sharp edges accidentally slicing my finger on the point. Very sharp, I think to myself as I wander back to the futon. Laying down I continue to hold the tooth in my hand tightly pressed to my chest. I drift off into a confusing and terrifying dream.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
New Story Part 1
My heart is racing as the fear pounds through my veins like war drums. Where are you? It’s a horrible night out the negative energy is resonating through the ground. Everything is hiding, there’s no sign of life within ten blocks. My breathing quickens and my hand grasps the knife in my sleeve tighter as I approach the end of the street. Nothing, I look to the left and the right, I look down the street in front of me and still nothing. There’s no sign of you anywhere, I hear a crunch of a single leaf to my back right. Something’s there, I take a careful step to my left, and another, and another. The crunches synchronize with my steps, my heart jumps. I smell something musty and rank, fowl breath and old rain washed mud; like a stray dog. I turn to run as something behind me lunges; I fall.
The blackness lightens to grey and I open my eyes. I’m laying on the futon with my roommate Soda standing over me, “what the hell happened to me?”
“You tell me,” said Soda,
“I get up for work and find you passed out in the front yard bleeding all over the place.”
Bleeding? I try to focus and find the pain that comes with blood; a knife stabs the back of my head. “Oww,” I groan,
“My fucking head is killing me, is it cracked?”
Soda looks at me confused, “no man, your head is fine. I was more concerned with the teeth marks on your shoulder. That’s a nasty gash.”
I look down to see what he’s talking about and once again pain shoots through the back of my head. I gasp at the pain and then again at the enormous jaw shaped bruising around the extensive puncture wounds. “Fuck me sideways,” I yell,
“What the fuck did I do? I don’t remember this happening! The fuckin’ thing doesn’t even hurt!”
My horrified expression worries him even more, “man, are you trying to tell me you can’t feel that?”
“I seriously cannot feel that! Poke it, find out!” I cried.
I demonstrate by jabbing my finger into the wound, “why can’t I bloody well feel that?!”
Wiping the blood or Sodas’ jeans I stand up, “woah! What the fuck boy!” he yells.
“What?” I snap back at him.
“I didn’t even see you stand up and th-then you were there!” the wide-eyed Soda explains.
Very confused at this point I try to walk more slowly to the bathroom so as not to ask him again. Cautiously, I take out the pro-wrap and ointment and turn to the bathroom sink. Filling it up with water I look up into the mirror and gasp, stumbling backward.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Soda yells from the other room.
“F-fine…” I yell back.
Looking into the mirror again I stare at my eyes; bright gold stares back at me rather than my usual green. I glance down at the wound to assess it and my gold eyes go wide. The gaping, gouged wound has all but disappeared. All that’s left of it is a light scar. Everything falls from my hands to the tiled bathroom floor.
The blackness lightens to grey and I open my eyes. I’m laying on the futon with my roommate Soda standing over me, “what the hell happened to me?”
“You tell me,” said Soda,
“I get up for work and find you passed out in the front yard bleeding all over the place.”
Bleeding? I try to focus and find the pain that comes with blood; a knife stabs the back of my head. “Oww,” I groan,
“My fucking head is killing me, is it cracked?”
Soda looks at me confused, “no man, your head is fine. I was more concerned with the teeth marks on your shoulder. That’s a nasty gash.”
I look down to see what he’s talking about and once again pain shoots through the back of my head. I gasp at the pain and then again at the enormous jaw shaped bruising around the extensive puncture wounds. “Fuck me sideways,” I yell,
“What the fuck did I do? I don’t remember this happening! The fuckin’ thing doesn’t even hurt!”
My horrified expression worries him even more, “man, are you trying to tell me you can’t feel that?”
“I seriously cannot feel that! Poke it, find out!” I cried.
I demonstrate by jabbing my finger into the wound, “why can’t I bloody well feel that?!”
Wiping the blood or Sodas’ jeans I stand up, “woah! What the fuck boy!” he yells.
“What?” I snap back at him.
“I didn’t even see you stand up and th-then you were there!” the wide-eyed Soda explains.
Very confused at this point I try to walk more slowly to the bathroom so as not to ask him again. Cautiously, I take out the pro-wrap and ointment and turn to the bathroom sink. Filling it up with water I look up into the mirror and gasp, stumbling backward.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Soda yells from the other room.
“F-fine…” I yell back.
Looking into the mirror again I stare at my eyes; bright gold stares back at me rather than my usual green. I glance down at the wound to assess it and my gold eyes go wide. The gaping, gouged wound has all but disappeared. All that’s left of it is a light scar. Everything falls from my hands to the tiled bathroom floor.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Longing for a broken promise
Crimson rivers envisioned in the mind
Wishing only to become reality
To help repay for the pain caused to one held so dear
To provide justice for the wrong against a loved soul
Streaks down the arm
Across the heart
And deep into the chest
Wishing to become reality
The body sought to be ravaged for unjust deeds
The mind constantly tormented never to sleep again
Waking nightmares are deserved to the one who prays for death
The cool sleek blade never to come for promises must be kept
Streaks down the arm
Across the heart
And deep into the chest
Wishing to become reality
Wishing only to become reality
To help repay for the pain caused to one held so dear
To provide justice for the wrong against a loved soul
Streaks down the arm
Across the heart
And deep into the chest
Wishing to become reality
The body sought to be ravaged for unjust deeds
The mind constantly tormented never to sleep again
Waking nightmares are deserved to the one who prays for death
The cool sleek blade never to come for promises must be kept
Streaks down the arm
Across the heart
And deep into the chest
Wishing to become reality
The Cave
Drip, drip, drip
the water falls from the roof
on to jagged teeth
the twins of the mother
mineral light filtering through the darkness
purifying all that lives in the deep existence
red eyes watch the water fall as white bodies shuffle across the stone floor
slipping in and out of pools of crystalline liquid
and away into the never ending night
the water falls from the roof
on to jagged teeth
the twins of the mother
mineral light filtering through the darkness
purifying all that lives in the deep existence
red eyes watch the water fall as white bodies shuffle across the stone floor
slipping in and out of pools of crystalline liquid
and away into the never ending night
The Forest
Deep through the dark
light filters down in streams of life's essence
feeding that which is in its way
dark green leaves soak in the nutrients
and the grass below your feet flourishes
leaves on the ground already fallen during the times of everlasting darkness
this place of silence is your escape
this place is where you can breath
and this place is part of you soul
light filters down in streams of life's essence
feeding that which is in its way
dark green leaves soak in the nutrients
and the grass below your feet flourishes
leaves on the ground already fallen during the times of everlasting darkness
this place of silence is your escape
this place is where you can breath
and this place is part of you soul
My Heart in Your Hands
The nights many eyes stare at us from afar,
As our fingers lock together,
A symbol of our matching souls,
Each meant for the other.
We talk,
As we walk,
Of our many dreams and plans,
Life together,
Forever,
What could be better than that?
I feel your arms around me tight,
Holding me to your warmth,
We fit together perfectly,
As if nothing was wrong in the world.
And at the end of the night,
I nail my heart to the tree under which you sit,
So you know even though my body moves away,
My heart is here to stay,
For forever and a day.
As our fingers lock together,
A symbol of our matching souls,
Each meant for the other.
We talk,
As we walk,
Of our many dreams and plans,
Life together,
Forever,
What could be better than that?
I feel your arms around me tight,
Holding me to your warmth,
We fit together perfectly,
As if nothing was wrong in the world.
And at the end of the night,
I nail my heart to the tree under which you sit,
So you know even though my body moves away,
My heart is here to stay,
For forever and a day.
White Wolf
Eyes of glowing ice,
Teeth of bloody passion,
Coat of white,
And muscles of power.
Senses to rule nations,
A directness to control the rebellious,
A claw of might,
A breath of smoke,
A word of death, might, power, and intriguing boldness.
Teeth of bloody passion,
Coat of white,
And muscles of power.
Senses to rule nations,
A directness to control the rebellious,
A claw of might,
A breath of smoke,
A word of death, might, power, and intriguing boldness.
Silent Stripes
Mystery in her steps
Muscles tight and ready
Eyes like the sun
And strength radiating from her very soul
The hackles on her neck upright
The breath from her lungs deep but quiet
The movements slow and stealthy
The deep rhythmic sounds of prey showing her the light
The awesome power lunging forward
The sound not made by her footsteps many
The scatter of bewildered prey
The silent noise of the stripes is coming
Muscles tight and ready
Eyes like the sun
And strength radiating from her very soul
The hackles on her neck upright
The breath from her lungs deep but quiet
The movements slow and stealthy
The deep rhythmic sounds of prey showing her the light
The awesome power lunging forward
The sound not made by her footsteps many
The scatter of bewildered prey
The silent noise of the stripes is coming
Twisted
I feel no point any longer
The pain building up is too strong
My tears run down as red as death
And the cold sweeps in on wings of phoenixes
My skin longs for that sweet taste of metal
The crimson iron trails down my fingers searching for its’ mother blade
The taste in my mouth turns slowly saltier
And the pure metal running through my veins, being pumped by my stone heart, seeps through my teeth
The pain building up is too strong
My tears run down as red as death
And the cold sweeps in on wings of phoenixes
My skin longs for that sweet taste of metal
The crimson iron trails down my fingers searching for its’ mother blade
The taste in my mouth turns slowly saltier
And the pure metal running through my veins, being pumped by my stone heart, seeps through my teeth
Nameless
Swift as the sparrow through the trees,
Strong as the midnight breeze,
The beauty,
The power,
The glorious sight,
When it becomes...dark as night
Strong as the midnight breeze,
The beauty,
The power,
The glorious sight,
When it becomes...dark as night
The Ghost
Through the night
Death searching the light
Pale wings ever fluttering
Dusty ash of decomposing bones falling
Whispers constant
A serenade of malevolent thoughts
A poisoned kiss on the back of your neck
Breathing its' seed into your soul through the very hairs on your skin
Death searching the light
Pale wings ever fluttering
Dusty ash of decomposing bones falling
Whispers constant
A serenade of malevolent thoughts
A poisoned kiss on the back of your neck
Breathing its' seed into your soul through the very hairs on your skin
A Strange Tale Indeed
I lay there unable to move or cry out for help.
The only senses available to me are stifling heat and the weight of my enemies corpse on my chest.
The smell of decaying flesh enter my nostrils but as i have been laying here for some time now my sent receptor pads have all but burnt out.
A sickly sweet taste of fly larva infested blood drips steadily into my mouth from a gaping shotgun wound in my foes forehead, unable to gag i vomit on myself.
Having laid here on the battle field for three days staring into the face of my long dead nemesis i begin to wonder the purpose of this war and why it became so personal to me.
The object of my hate and fear is laying dead upon my chest and yet not being able to move away from the empty shell instills life in the dead flame of fear.
Curious as to why my body fails me I begin to focus on different sections.
Dread envelopes me as i come to realize my limbs are no longer connected to the nerve endings my brain is trying to reach them by.
The sun is beginning to fall now as are the birds becoming quieter.
Suddenly the carcass is ripped from on top of me and torn apart by rabid dogs.
The birds then fly down and begin to peck at my useless tung.
I cry out silently as my head is raised by an unseen carnivore and i stare deep into the empty space where my body is meant to be.
The sun goes down and the world falls quiet...the pain is gone.
My three days were the three minutes the brain lives without a body.
This is the story of my decapitated head.
The only senses available to me are stifling heat and the weight of my enemies corpse on my chest.
The smell of decaying flesh enter my nostrils but as i have been laying here for some time now my sent receptor pads have all but burnt out.
A sickly sweet taste of fly larva infested blood drips steadily into my mouth from a gaping shotgun wound in my foes forehead, unable to gag i vomit on myself.
Having laid here on the battle field for three days staring into the face of my long dead nemesis i begin to wonder the purpose of this war and why it became so personal to me.
The object of my hate and fear is laying dead upon my chest and yet not being able to move away from the empty shell instills life in the dead flame of fear.
Curious as to why my body fails me I begin to focus on different sections.
Dread envelopes me as i come to realize my limbs are no longer connected to the nerve endings my brain is trying to reach them by.
The sun is beginning to fall now as are the birds becoming quieter.
Suddenly the carcass is ripped from on top of me and torn apart by rabid dogs.
The birds then fly down and begin to peck at my useless tung.
I cry out silently as my head is raised by an unseen carnivore and i stare deep into the empty space where my body is meant to be.
The sun goes down and the world falls quiet...the pain is gone.
My three days were the three minutes the brain lives without a body.
This is the story of my decapitated head.
Whisps of Sand
time and space ebb and flow
lapping at the shores of discontent on which you stride
nipping with bitter cold at your ankles
like a ticking clock rushing your existence
the blood pumps through your veins with a sounding song
"time's up, time's up, time's up, time's up"
the steel courses through your veins hardening the core of your being
consciousness repeating the whispers of the eternal night in which your purpose resides
the refreshing crispness that the darkness brings turns to ice
your finger tips freeze and your tung loses the ability to wet your lips
they crack under the pressure of society and your ears drums burst
the loud silence of disgust staring at you has killed all chance of hearing the light
the seagulls cry above you in the sky
you watch as their beaks open in communication and the silence fills you with dread
what is hope to an empty soul now?
lapping at the shores of discontent on which you stride
nipping with bitter cold at your ankles
like a ticking clock rushing your existence
the blood pumps through your veins with a sounding song
"time's up, time's up, time's up, time's up"
the steel courses through your veins hardening the core of your being
consciousness repeating the whispers of the eternal night in which your purpose resides
the refreshing crispness that the darkness brings turns to ice
your finger tips freeze and your tung loses the ability to wet your lips
they crack under the pressure of society and your ears drums burst
the loud silence of disgust staring at you has killed all chance of hearing the light
the seagulls cry above you in the sky
you watch as their beaks open in communication and the silence fills you with dread
what is hope to an empty soul now?
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