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Corporeal Bloodlust
| Open Poetry #42 |
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Corporeal Bloodlust |
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SilhouetteMarquis Junior Member
since 2008-02-07
Posts 32 |
Mercy's chaos, so irate But insolence, too much askew. No reason for this ardent hate Comparison of me and you: I confuse the light and hope You deny that hope exists I take to the whipping rope And you just keep your killing lists. I fear of things of us to come You fear that it might cause our fall I see the pain of many some, You wish that it would come for all. I look upon these lavish gifts, and crush their hopes and dreams by fault You see this opportunity as a way for wounds to have their salt. I refuse to look into the light You embrace it's present taste. I self-destruct inside my might You poison them with gold faux, laced. I feel us falling down this well, You hate the bottom of this hell Entwined within,this wicked spell Both minds, as one, no soul to sell. Both shadows cross for no ill fate A mannequin of empathy Refract from souls with no control Notorious for rampancy. Possessing of the things we love Possessed by hate of normalcy. Erratic forms transcend this realm, Voids consume this entity These images of callused fiends Were once of mortal feelings' grasp. But corruption spread, and death ensued For innocence, hath they not clasp I stare upon a ghastly moon Clouds translucent, night of thine. A flash beyond the solid blue A thinning of the weakened twine. I come prepared to end this feat Of subtle grays, for faith refine. I glance upon the rugged rocks And look upon a sight, divine! A half-rot skin of stolen truths A flesh form of thyself lay weak In retrospect of this strange sight My eyes so bright,my light should'st speak: It shrieked of songs, my own motet The notes, so shrill, could pierce the heart by lacerations, sick intent Now lie in colors, morbid art. Thy undead equal, now reached forth Clenched my heart, to stop the flow He whispered from his gangrene lips "Pro nex vadum insisto" Convulsing eyes, with vision blurry Conciousness, a violent fury Sanguine lips spoke only worry of the only way for our souls to die. A seizure of my memories that lie so frozen, never warm I see the undead lift his head Become of me, my perfect form. We stand within a cathedral Mosaics glisten, dripping blood Stained glass peepholes fill the halls Floors bleed filth with trodden mud. A choir sings from deep beyond The belfry rings with solemn tone Crimson Candles burn a faintly glow. A silhouette kneels, and praises all alone. Approaching him, I take my steps As if each were my last. Each step, would come a pounding thud So quick, each step before, surpassed. I looked into his calming eyes Expecting soft and brisky skies Instead I found an ocean of Blackened seas and noxious dyes A garden filled with maliced graves A burning oak, the ashes', slaves. Ancestors' wake, for no one saves Rebirth for no tomorrow. For this mortal lived three thousand years, a feat in which no man has seen. A soldier to both sides of war, A mannequin, with no between He starts to glow a faintest light He disappears to darkly night And in his place, a shadow taketh All away my dampened might. The vortex spills into the shadows, Splashing us with stone and sin Breaking through the wooden doors A tide of emotions held within. I look upon my adversary Try to catch a final sight before this evil has me drowning Eyes of malice, eyes of envy Eyes with everlasting light I woke upon the same night hilltop No decomposing horrid fright Nor pristine skin, so lovely warming Blue waves crash below this spite. I then glanced upon my skin, expecting pale, soak'n flesh Alas! I see the dying grass! The glacier's scar among the pass! The rock's sharp edges, empty mass! The sand's reflection, coarsely glass! Oh, horrid night in which this came! Have I become the one I name? For I, the only one to blame. A sullen soul, for which we claim The innocence, the morale's aim Cause apparitions' fall to shame And I should know, for I the same. Reap thou'st children 'till the dawn... My only cause:to rip and maim When Helios shall rise for me, it will burn of a thousand deaths; But I among the sick and lame. The Ugly duck, be not a swan: Misfortunate to be not aflame. This shadow, only hearts can feign. Let chaos come to only those who disregard the Lion's mane. But even beasts, among the tame And many souls among the slain That lepordesses rip the vein Of life, and blood shall surely stain. And doves and vultures come too late. |
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