06-06-2006, 03:53 PM
poem entitled: Dark shadow tears...
Darkness combustion decaying my inside core,
Secluded-midnight reaper plying me from the floor-
Dome encased nothingness and my thought housed hore
Simplified my life to shit once, and called it a bore.
Layered-cake-red-river runs rapid out of my two prism seekers,
Collectively entombed in the depths of labryinths and tested in beekers.
Loving anguish echoed in screams of depressed vampire wine drinkers,
Coming together and running strafing side-to-side hazard tail blinkers.
Stopping short into nails on empty walls gushing out of its infinte hole,
A gate to the land of "happiness" is guarded by a bitchy troll.
Sending me to unneeded insanity, grinning seductively. Heart turns to coal.
All the rape vendettas targeting on my smiles reduced to drops in a bowl.
Cold whispered, position of face-earth-teared-discontent, my perils become blight.
Incompatible inheritance of customary voodoo luck and my soul in its 10-count fight.
Contorted intoxication from burning flesh still steaming from deconstructed tongue flight,
Impossible leading one into some belief that lip breathe communication dismantled parts of me tonight-
Craving, the chance last of blindness blocks in boxes, hiding the waterfalls that distort my sight....
Darkness combustion decaying my inside core,
Secluded-midnight reaper plying me from the floor-
Dome encased nothingness and my thought housed hore
Simplified my life to shit once, and called it a bore.
Layered-cake-red-river runs rapid out of my two prism seekers,
Collectively entombed in the depths of labryinths and tested in beekers.
Loving anguish echoed in screams of depressed vampire wine drinkers,
Coming together and running strafing side-to-side hazard tail blinkers.
Stopping short into nails on empty walls gushing out of its infinte hole,
A gate to the land of "happiness" is guarded by a bitchy troll.
Sending me to unneeded insanity, grinning seductively. Heart turns to coal.
All the rape vendettas targeting on my smiles reduced to drops in a bowl.
Cold whispered, position of face-earth-teared-discontent, my perils become blight.
Incompatible inheritance of customary voodoo luck and my soul in its 10-count fight.
Contorted intoxication from burning flesh still steaming from deconstructed tongue flight,
Impossible leading one into some belief that lip breathe communication dismantled parts of me tonight-
Craving, the chance last of blindness blocks in boxes, hiding the waterfalls that distort my sight....
