Death by the hundreds
Slaughters by the thousands
Genocide runs rampant in our streets
The gods of death walk bold and proud
For they walk with our own feet.
Standing in front of the mirror
The hammer in his hand
Above the angel stood and watched
She knew what he had planned
That watching angel had a crystal teardrop in her hand.
The hammer struck like lightning
The mirror shattered with a crash
He bent over, grabbed a shard
And with it, he impaled his left hand.
Blood dripped to the sink,
There it combined with water
And became a bright shade of pink
Slowly he drew that shard down the length of his arm,
Never so much as flinching
The angel felled her teardrop as he fell to the ground
Laying there bleeding the words barely escaped his lips,
But his angel heard every word in her heart as she watched him slowly slip away.
“I love you, and I’m sorry.”
The teardrop shattered as it finally hit the ground,
And became unrecognizable from the ordinary glass.
Clear Your Mind
Close your eyes,
And clear your mind.
When you do you’ll realize that,
In space and time, you’re already mine.
Your soul seeks a heavenly bliss
But is quickly extinguished by my devilish kiss.
Your Heaven above,
Is my Hell below.
So close your eyes,
And clear your mind.
When you do you’ll finally find,
Our destinies are clearly defined.
Wood and glass,
Stars and space,
Flesh and blood.
All become one in the timeless void,
Only one thing stays the same,
Separate from the rest.
Love, never-ending, never changing,
Never giving in to even the most unbearable pain.
But is it really there?
Or is it, as I see it,
Just another hallucination,
In the void of the human mind.
Hearts & Crosses
Figure out what this is, divide it by two, and you come back to me separated from you.
Mathematical formulas placed like surgical cuts in immediate informality.
Yet, hidden inside my head.
Glass shatters like souls screaming.
Wood breaks as if to a banshee’s cry.
The bitterness of defeat, the taste of blood and chocolate.
Lord, why can’t you just let me die?
My palms are cut in salt-stung anguish
My wrists have cross like patterns.
Carving hearts and crosses to ease the twisting in my heart.
Cleaning up the messes to ease the cringing of my mind.
I stifle my screams so you can’t hear the blackness inside my head.
And the waters wash ever downwards, cleansing me of my sins.
Smeared lipstick and smudgy black tears
I look into the mirror with hatred, reserved only for myself.
I wipe away the taint but my vision remains blurry
I look into my eyes and wish that like my soul, my body would finally die.
A stain of crimson slides over my sight
And my conscience slides deeper into the night.
Shadowy claws piercing my brain with cold fire
Maddened laughter, looking forward to my final defeat.
Yet somehow always beyond my grasp. The irony of victory.
The agony of defeat.
Final shuddering breath.
Then I am finally taken out of this world.
And into a realm of far greater torment.
Tenshiko & Silven ‘02
Until the Time
Across the times, across the space
Through the mists that hide your face.
I felt the joy grow into pain
For in my heart, I felt the same.
My head ached, my heart broke
And again the loneliness overwhelmed.
My heart felt that my soul was dying,
My head argued that it was already dead.
And now I stand here,
Naught but a hollow shell of what was before,
Until the time we meet again.
So tired, unable to move
How far will I take my hated of you?
To think of what unto you I could do with my knife
To put an end to your worthless life
How it would feel to rip you limb from limb
Yet, why should I waste my precious time?
When I know all I have to do is sit and wait
And you’ll do the work yourself
Why mess with your body when I can fuck with your mind
And, in the end, make you as ugly and pitiful as me.
From the Creator’s Hand
A black star shines against the light of day,
Twilight comes and the night grows brighter
He steps outside, his body broken
But his heart and mind made whole again.
Falling to his knees, his bloody tears profess his love.
Though this time there’s no helping hand, no one to make him understand.
Wings of love wrap around him,
His angel from the Creator’s hand.
It’s raining, it’s pouring
The old man’s not snoring.
He went to bed,
Bumped his head,
And was naught but a corpse in the morning.
How many lives pass to the night?
Unseen, unheard, unknown
My greatest fear?
It isn’t death itself, but to be alone when I die.
Jumbled thoughts run through my head,
Out my ear,
Onto my bed.
The cat grins big as he takes a drink,
But what in this insane jumbled mess,
Originally made me think?
Rip out my heart,
Nail it to the door.
Did you really think I wouldn’t,
So leave me alone,
Let me be,
Why can’t you see,
What has happened to me?
Now I lay here upon the floor,
My heart is broken,
My flesh is torn.
Yet my duty,
Has not been born.
So just let this old man,
Take his rest.
Let him settle down
Into his nest,
As the rain patters to the ground,
And makes that very lovely sound,
To which I rest my weary head,
While I pray,
That I’ll be able to get up in the morning.
The knife slides once again
A thin red line appears upon my arm.
Slowly growing larger, slowly growing darker.
Crimson red turns night black
Still growing, still bleeding.
I sigh as the stress and tension flow from my body along with that crimson sustenance of life.
I smirk once more,
It is supposed to be the source of life, yet it is more commonly associated with pain and death.
I raise my arm and watch the blood flow from the cut, creating a map of crimson rivers among the barren plains of my arm.
I take pleasure in my work until I spot the blinking face of the evil clock; 4:30.
“They will be home soon.” I murmur, reaching for the snow-white cloth.
Before long, the cloth is red, the only trace of my sin.
I hide my blade again,
I know it will wait for me to come, to fulfill my need for blood,
Weaver of Truths
Bittersweet tears burn anew
Streak down my face
Stinging with their anger
Yet in joy they bring a sweet relief
The teardrop dagger carves a heart
Blood flows upon my dirty skin
I swear I’ll never lie to you again
Ah, the bittersweet agony
By hurting you, I destroy myself
I never meant to betray your trust
And if possible, I never will again
For in hurting you, what will we win?
I ask this as a gentleman, and a weaver of truths.
Someone To Lean On
Sorrow pours over me,
Sitting here watching you cry.
You feel so alone,
And yet can never tell me why.
I wrap my arms around you,
Drawing you closer into me.
You rest your head against my shoulder,
And try to choke back another sob.
I want to join you,
To let out my tears as well.
But now is not the time.
Right now I need to sit here,
And be your should to lean on.
Right now I need to be your man,
And carry you through to the end.
“To love you, to guide you
Through the darkest of your days.”
So I sit here,
Wishing you better.
Until the time you can once again look to me,
With those beautiful tiger-eyes.
Acidic teardrops rain down upon me
A sweet song of relief
Seemingly passing through me on it’s long trip to the ground.
From the lips of the one I love.
The red-hot agony searing through me in tiny drop-sized dots.
She wraps me in her arms, and gently folds me in her wings.
Bloodied, my fingers rip at the flesh of my wrists.
Warm content slowly flows throughout me, and I breath a sigh of peace.
Horrid, it is, the figure that stands before me.
“Mou kimi agai aisenai.” The words barely escape my lips, for I am lost in her beautiful golden eyes.
Falling to my knees I hear him laughing at my torture, joyful for my pain.
Funny how safe I feel, lost in those two dark pools…
No! I’m not ready to die, I-I’m still afraid.
…As if nothing can harm me.
I lunge at the figure taunting me, and smash into the mirror.
In my heart I finally know that I am not alone.
All along I was my only tormentor.
I am no longer afraid
I lay my head in the arms of death,
I lay my head in the arms of my love,
And drift into quiet eternal sleep.
For My Eyes Only
Ever changing voices fill my head.
Grinning like the Cheshire cat.
Nobody seems to see beyond my false smile.
I am a living breathing human being.
What about me?
What about my needs?
All I can do is write them down on a piece of paper,
Then wish them away.
It’s just not that easy anymore.
My hopes and dreams will never come floating back to me on dragon’s wings.
Instead, they’ll just slip away upon the crimson drops of my friends’ blood.
Am I the only one left who is sane?
To seek pleasure in life, is it really that hard to do?
Why do I waste my time writing my bittersweet words on a plain piece of paper?
Because I know, the only one who will ever read them is I.