Can You Blame Me?
Can you blame me? Sick of hands forced into My truth, my perception. Thrusting themselves Into places they don't belong. Those few Who manage privacy being dashed through Governmental swords, eyes. The fly that melds Into obscurity, the one least...
Teenage Loves
This was a sonnet that I wrote not too long ago in a new form that I created, tercet, tercet, quatrain, quatrain. It might be a little rough, but I spent a good two weeks trying to finish it, and it seems to have come out rather well. There's some...
Reach to the Heights, Light Overcomes
Sonnet number two in my new form. Spirit, body, and mind, for just death reveals all A dream that comes for your true sight of the Decades and decades of unholy fall Mirrors breaking as she's crying, "I'm numb!" Dividing bonds between these...
Taking the Stage, Lead by the Audience
Definately not one of my better ones, though it's still okay... not as metaphor and allusion filled as my last ones. I'm somewhat proud of it though, kinda have to be. It's my own words....
Senses Fail Those in Hell
The heat seems to lick my eyes, jumping in My soul, boiling my mind like the meat it Has been, useless like matrimony, sin. The smell of butane fills the air, my brain, Holes driven in my skin, my dark blood drips On the floor, the beat that...
A whisper from Gaia
A whisper from Gaia; mother of men. Words thrown to the wild wind, Unheeded by those who do not listen. Words, if heard right, would sound in the young minds Witches, Christians, Jewish Children and kin; All be rested, as her loving words...
Child of the Wastland - Prologue
Deep in the eastern wastes laid a small town, known by travelers as Brimley, and by its occupants as an eternal hell. Surrounding Brimley on all sides was a small forest composed entirely of black plants, most of which were poisonous, but a still fair...