The Maiden of MorbidityAshen hair woven by shadows, pure white skin born from blood, the maiden of morbidity has at last awakened from the Hellish pits of forgotten mud.Her grace shall dance along with the wind, stealing the breaths from those who have sinned.Binding their intestines within their throats, leaving them to drown within the moats.Such chaos shall reign upon the fools, stripping them of intelligence and "honest rules."And once her job is at last complete, she shall dine upon fresh human meat.
To Beseech the Fallen StainTo Beseech the FallenOnce upon a hundred years, the banished gather to recite the tears.Such hymns of agony and foolish reign, their voices beseech the fallen stain.Lament is thrust against its face, the stain pleads not to suffer the brace.All those who perished for its desired needs, rise forth and against to annihilate the seeds.One by one the seeds implode, their souls are frail, they cannot take the road.And here at last the stain slips away, never seeing again the night of day.
YouThe pours of your mind, diseased and left oozing; droplets of configurations spun in a line.What was forgotten in the space between your knowledge, there's not a damn thing left except for time.Years and years of unsolved reservations, crooked and creaking like your bloodshot eyes.Examining the past with a magnifying glass, I doubt you'll realize anything for your life is mine.I stole your soul with a simplistic vine, one brought from the restless pastes of time.When your steel-blue eyes locked my mind in the corner, I patiently waited, for your soul would be mine.You kindly pranced over and asked a little favor, I simply stabbed your neck and took your time.And there you are, dead in the wasteland, blood on your jacket; say good morning to grime.
The Moonlit RiverDown the moonlit river, I sail with my soul alone.The glimmering water dances across my paddle, it sings to me songs of the unknown.Ten shimmering fish swim by, their fins forged of gems and jewels from the night sky.Silver trees on either side, their ethereal leaves whisper and glide.Glistening waterfalls ripple into place, across my canoe their translucent lines trace.Forevermore I shall sail this stream, never will I awaken from this ethereal dream.
Such a Peculiar PoemFeast upon the frozen dead, find yourself filling with dread.Emotionless specularity, nothing more was ever said.Elimination is key to the time, devour your face within your mind.And from the forgetfulness comes a sliver of rhyme, damn the rest and seek the mime.The mime who crossed the Gate of Lions, the mime who walked the Edge of Time.The mime that danced to the rhythm of Gods, the mime that stepped between the lines.Seek him out in the blank squares, he prepares vessels and broken hairs.And when you see him say to his face, "Darling, your mind is space."
The Frozen SongsFrozen songs whispered by the wind, such elegance brought to the trees.Simplistic vows forever forgotten, such forgiveness they ask, such pleas.At once they sang, such elegant notes, but alas those have drifted away.Nevermore they shall return to sing, nevermore shall they ever stay.
Twas HerTwas benevolence that stroked her midnight hair; the two golden eyes of pure significance.The clockwork world enveloped her decaying body with showers made of elegance.Spheres and diamonds, absinthe rings, silver candles, and assorted things.Given to her such riches of old, but alas she became greedy, that crone of mold.Stolen, she took souls from elderly thrones, swept away their memories from within their bones.The filth kept within her soul, the treasures she lied to have long before, such angst overcame her pitiful heart, it demanded repentance from the end to the start.She denied such treason to those who trusted her, she claimed it for the "better of all."And here lies her frozen head, forever forgotten, forever dead.
The CasketWintery waters and shadowy stones, glowing crystals lie beneath the bones.A casket buried within the seas, it remains to be sealed by the elder trees.Latched thrice and blessed fourteen, it shall never come undone and flee.Contained within are the lost scrolls; bones from ancients, and Elvish Drones.Secretive notes from kingdoms past, blood-stained and un-opened for they were always shipped last.Forgotten orphans and blinded wise, their souls and fingers buried inside.And thou shall soon be kept within, for your soul is prideful and your time is slim.
ItPorous wastes of rotting flesh, its stench and puss bubble within the mesh.Gaseous acid oozes down, peeling tissue and obliterating sound.Slugs and maggots feast and crawl, their sticky bodies cling to it all.Diseases and growths replace its eyes, the thing only lounges here, nevermore it flies.This vulgar blob of continuous waste, has at last become a bucket of paste.Groaning and bleeding for a soul to eat, remove it quickly, dispose of the meat.Empty it into the Lake of Storm, witness it shrivel and painfully deform.It's flesh shall crease and bleed to dust, once you leave it, forget its lust.