Gate Beyond Return

The sting from it’s breath, encapsulates me, shivers

Of daylight, highlights the mangled gate,

Displaying it’s villainy, slender arms outstretched,

Letting out, what I’ve fought to keep trapped

In the icy depths, only growing stronger, as I forget,

Wrapping its tentacles, squeezing around my throat,

Forcing my eyes, wide birthed, reflecting the monster

Before me, taking me inside it’s domain,

Past insanitys’ far gate, which no mind returns,

Every muscle numbed, as I’m dragged into the void

With my nightmare in the corner, perched,

Swinging it’s stinger like a pendulum,

Casting a shadow, as it passes, through the light,

Slithering closer, and then, emptiness,

The gate shuts, locked, with me behind it.

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Blinded

Within her own mind, the world

Is exactly, how she left it, an eroded vessel,

As she became her own empty room, hollowed

By the revolting scenes, highlighted in the flashes

Of immeasurable detestation, and there she floats

Amongst the rubble, her hands stretched out, reaching

Beyond the veil of black, infiltrating the ghost,

Shackles upon her eyes, hides an unclean Era,

A design defect in humanity, a false prophet

For whom, they eradicate for, but who is this savior

That channels themselves into the facade,

Not just a glimmer of their virus, but an apocalyptic

Strain running through Pomplona, ravaging,

The earth, crumbling beneath her,

Tremors, surging through her from the mass panic,

Cries for light from those lost in the shroud

For her, to come and filter out the pain,

But she has absorbed too much, drowning

In violent waters, barely staying above her suffocation,

Until it all consumed her, trampled she still bears

All the affliction of the world,

For everybody knows, that a broken heart, gets blind.

Other Than I

Time, within the possession of me reaching the far edge

Of the train, has vanished from existence,

As well as the recollection, of this blood stain

That appears, not to be my own, as well as the blade

Carried, in my trembling hand, also bathed in the unknown,

I can hear my heart’s chatter, louder than the metal clanking,

I throw my sight, from side to side, trying to gain a sense

Of what lies behind me, a puzzle, missing its fragments,

As panic, digs it’s talons inside the teetering tower,

I wonder where my mind had slipped to,

Had it betrayed me in my worst moment

Only to awaken me in the dark depths of chaos,

Suffocating in my own narrow gullet, lost inside,

I have to shed this skin, and can’t let myself be seen

As I peak through the crack of the door sliding

Opening wider, with the grooves of the tracks,

Seeing a deserted hall, creeping out deeper,

Into the shrouded gallery, pushing through the shackles

Held firmly, around my entire person, hindering

The way forward, oozing through, to the next car,

Finding a place, to cleanse the black eye,

I get in, and immediately lock the door

And just stare, at myself in reflection, and I’m unrecognizable,

Who is this before me, possessing my heart,

That seems to be moribund, pale, faced with horror

Spilled upon myself, unable to wash it all away,

A knock upon the door, but I cannot find my voice,

The handle rattles, as the knocking continues,

Getting louder, deafening within the stall

As I feel my blood, a fury cooking up to my pulsating mind,

And then it ceases, releases its fist from my throat,

But then I see myself again, pooled in more death,

With the body next to me, with the knife I firmly held

Now driven into a man’s skull, with fear frozen,

My expression is vacant, drugged into a lost fervor,

I make a discovery, hidden within my breast pocket

As I retrieve a wallet, alien to me, also stained,

Inside it I find the owners image, and I recognize

The face, in a flash I see myself boarding

And into my vision, this man appears with a smile,

Introduces himself with a hand upon my shoulder

Guiding me to his quarters, where he rips into my head,

Diving into the recesses of repression, and discovers

My hidden desires, my anger, my violence,

And brings it back to life, I am not I no longer,

And I come back from the cloaked memory,

Studying the sight of me, my eyes, fingers and lips,

Are those other than I, I am now a person of death,

A walking scythe, alluding the fear I once cowered under.

Amongst the Living

She slips into the veil, picking out her outfit

Carefully, peering out from behind her mask

Taking in sight of her facade, her entrapment,

To lure the already damned, into the dismay,

The devil, finding the crooked outstretched hand

Searching for a glimpse of light in the stormy alley,

But only she bears shelter for them, inviting

Them out from the oppressive rain, and into the orchestra,

All the lost souls, sitting with their errors as the score,

The hum of the emptiness spotlights over their heads,

The devil peeks out, standing amongst the living,

Tapped the batton, for attention, and forced their scream,

Salivating, at the release of their fear, into the air,

She feeds on those floating orbs, absorbing

Their strength, sucking them all dry to ash,

Wisked away, with a gust of her whisper…

“You’ve been emptied”

And all those, who once were, shattered apart

Sprinkling through the depths of a continued fear,

While she, the devil, continues amongst the living,

Soaking, in the middle of the soon to be lost

On the ballroom dance floor, in front of the full orchestra.

The Eternal Wasteland

Have I reached, the end of the abyss?

Thick, dry humid air, as if I’ve decended

To the highest low point, swallowing it’s pungent breath,

All that once was, has been depleted, spilling sand

Through broken fingers, and watching it weather away,

I dredge my mind, only to unearth the insipid spider,

Feeding off the random streaks of light, snuffed

Into the outer limits, beyond what I can consume,

There is no death, only the stale walk

Around the repetitive process, which melts my strength

And locks me, into a sinking standstill peering

Into the void, leaving behind the evacuation,

Even as I hear the fire, cracking in the distance,

Separating will, from defeat, it becomes an added strain

To the constant emphatic emptiness, dawning

Doubt, feeding it my own thoughts, that expand its stretch,

My mind bears it’s incompetence, through the stutter

Of my empty page because my hand won’t move

The eager pen gracing the openness, that haunts me,

The way forward seems so daunting, all because the horizon

Has been lost to me, for all there is, stews in this wasteland,

So is this the end?

Have I done all that I can?

I fear for my mind, that’ll go mad from wondering

Inside its own den, stuck within the familiar landscape,

Bricked up under the shadows that creep from the past,

Am I doomed to this Purgatory, awaiting no end,

For all that I once held tight, is now flickering

Way beyond the rattle of the gate, and I, a spectator

To life continuing around me, suffering from

The dread of the foreboding, which overpowers hope,

Existence of any inclination of an escape,

Back into the spirited, slips past me and into that terror

I can’t camouflage from, the wasteland is my open casket,

Laying my mind deeper into the murky world,

Nothing left to say,

Nothing left to inscribe,

I’ve told all my stories,

Until I reach this world’s end.

Power

An empty throne, at the back of a deeply dim room
Simply occupies the splintered faith, tainted by doubters,
They chase out belief, within themselves, holding torches
To the light, that they say deceived their expectations,
The town has gathered beneath the throne room’s window,
Shouting death, of the praising rumble, now hear
The thunderous rebellion, falling on a vacant seat,
A runaway, finds their own way in masquerade,
Pass the hunters pounding on the door, an illusion
To them, as they herd together on the tiptoes of defeat,
The love that faintly drifts the halls, vanished in the con
Of the people’s hearts, and now fires erupt throughout,
The throne, still holds its ground, elegant in the dusk,
A facade, to gently brush them off the scent of their crowned,
But where is the powerful one now, that they were unveiled
To the rotting promise, exposed by the squawk
Of their own actions, that they fear to answer for,
An admittance to their own hypocrisy upon the guillotine,
The insurgents demand their blood back,
But still, they yield before an empty throne mocked by the raven
Perched, squawking at the broken, you will bleed for another.

Peace of Mind

The gate thrusts violently, locked, fighting to break
In the calm winter night, as a feverish chill bites,
I approach, slowly shuffling my steps, barely holding
Myself from trembling, for an ominous glow, spotlights,
Keeping my focus locked tight upon the grumble
Kicking up a fog, putting the world, behind blinds,
A narrow tunnel, that I should be running away from,
Why, nothing is being kept beyond the clanging rattle
But the phantom, craning out from the spreading myth,
A tale I’ve heard countless times, that I now sink
Into the words, whispers crawl up my spine of its legitimacy,
Claiming control over my consciousness, a cold
Grasp inside my chest, turning up the bass drum,
I drop to my knees, hoping it’s enough of an anchor,
I beg for it to end, as the fog comes in closer
And the lock, loses its hold, letting the gate creak,
Piercing my malleable skull, inviting the dread
Right in, as they loop under my arms and drag
Me through the gate and into the asylum,
Then into my padded closet, and finally the choke,
Nothing left inside my head, but the story
That had chased after me, and forever stalks
Me in the shadowed corner, until I let the phantom go.

Escape 

The stench of stale death, clears way for the vultures, 

The world’s structures and balance have collapsed 

To the rotting, leaving behind a hollow wasteland, 

Nothing left to survive off of, just a war for ground, 

Life, has nearly been eradicated, the war, is its completion, 

One survivor, stays nomadic in his march, aimless

Through minefields and raging battles, leaving stains 

To be buried by the forthcoming windstorm, wailing 

Against the rogue warrior, who does not break stride, 

The world is lost to storms, clouds above the futile 

Rage of these citizens, continuing their efforts to take, 

Yet here is a man, who travels the scorched barren land

To escape the ghost in his mind, haunting his deconstruction, 

Before the end loomed over, he had light in his eyes 

That was illuminated, by a sweet drift, from her kiss, 

Torn out and set aflame, with only her ash left, covering 

His face, refusing to wash it away, it’s become his shadow, 

Tightly gripped until he discovered his heel, she’s his ghost, 

Trying to vanish from her grasp, as she holds him to the fire, 

In life she inspired him, but in death, she drags him to hell, 

Everyone is in war, where his war lies, no outsider 

Can be ally, for sometimes, we are just the collateral 

Damage, in someone else’s war, against themselves. 

Hiding From Yourself 

She hollows the soil of her secluded island, dredging 

Her own quarantine, for this is not paradise, 

Staring at an unfriendly pale light, that hawks 

Down at her, bringing forth her altered state, 

Running from death, that was perched upon her bust 

She now finds herself within a battle to her own demise, 

She howls as she turns, growing fangs and claws 

That have torn apart the unsuspecting, 

She fought to keep sanity off the hissing noose, 

Yet she would find herself drunk off the gore of the dead

That had been displayed by herself to discover

Her own macabre, the monster that persists within, 

Uncontrollable she has buried herself below 

The full moon that she desperately hides from, 

But her eye consimes it, she’s caught in the hypnotic glow

As shadowed hands rip off her flesh, leaving horror 

She couldn’t suppress anymore, the monster 

That terrorizes every blink of her solace, 

But the island lays barren, and the noose

Already tight around her neck. 

Dance into Death

The still of the moment quaked, within her already 

Convulsive body, starring at her ripped apart masquerade, 

Stuck in the throat of the hourglass, gasping for warmth 

As the stabbing chill, trickles down her curved spine, 

The cloud within her grasping onto purity, polluting 

Her fading heart, once beat with ferocity, is now flickering, 

A dried up husk, left out for the circling horned vultures 

Salivating as innocence is bled out, pooling beside 

Her collapsed world, the only one she’s known and loved, 

Disintegrated in the fire she possess, brewed deep 

And erupted out of her, now she stares at the aftermath, 

Tangled in the deep twisted web, watching, clutching 

To the cross, singeing the light into dust, to impale fear

While deep in possession, of her resident demons, 

The snake stalked its prey in the tall blades, from slinking 

Into her crib, wrapping itself around her feeble throat, 

To her decline onto the dance floor, where a figure dressed 

In a burnt white tux, and a vile grin eager for her arrival, 

The poison spreading, consuming brilliance and taking

Her picturesque home, she disgusts herself watching

From her secluded tower, confined to this merciless takeover, 

Able to only witness the violent seizure coming to surface 

From within her own eroded vessel, sinking to unreachable

Depths, where care, concern and hope suffocates the breathless, 

Her demon, outstretched towards the crashing tower

As she runs, with it all crumbling beneath the decay,

Stifling her cry, as she chokes on the smoke, slithering 

From her slowly dying glimmer, picking up the dagger 

To subdue her persistent demon, waiting for their dance, 

To snuff out her clip of light, only remaining from her tight

Grasp upon her own fragile childhood, but nurtured, 

As it should, only to surrender at the will of the dance, 

She finally meets the darkness, with the dagger in possession, 

She has lost, before the music even began, taking stance 

The dagger held out together, slipping away from her arrest, 

As he forcefully brings her into his keep, under his domain, 

The spilling sand burying the past, as the demon fully takes over, 

Swallowing her whole, as he dances with her, yet without, 

In the ferocity he absorbed, only to let loose in an outburst 

The grim fire talons, lacerating the girl’s entire dynasty, 

Severed, from the sanity, engulfed in the cycling agony, 

Torn to the pits where obscurity keeps her consciousness, 

Looking at her broken palace, rusted over by the eclipse, 

Leaving it all to the decay, death being her demon, 

He spreads his storm from the empty, lost at sea vessel, 

Dancing alone to death.