245trioxin's blog

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Vampiric Dreams & Requiems…

I see life, not through my eyes but through visions. Everyday…a cloudy haze. With my eyelids closed tight; life...still finds its way through.
 
And it’s cold outside; an unseasonable Spring. Two shirts and a jacket can’t offer the warmth of a single hug. How do I kill so much time without sleeping? Too much caffeine…too little rest…too much attention to the pangs in my chest.
 
My legs are aching…
…My feet are bruised…
…In blistering pain…
…From miles of abuse.
 

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On The Other Side of The Mirror

I sit
I think
I repress

Decades, like dominoes…toppling accomplishments and I am listening to the icy velvet voice of Hell within’ my head. 

“Welcome home…”

Goosebumps like a cold sweat infect my spine.  Saturated with downtrodden emptiness; worms feed on meat I no longer need.  Amongst twisted thorns and poisoned vines, screaming souls…calling me home; inhaling the stench of aged brimstone and flesh.

This…death…

(The only warmth in my chest)

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Angels in Bondage

Hands tied
Wings clipped
Never again shall they fly
Never again will they be to my…benefit.

The sun has eclipsed
They are blind, deaf and dumb
My…deceased loved ones

  Angels in bondage.

Hissing & Hell-bent
Screaming to be freed
To understand suffering, is to suffer complete.

Legions of dead
Wail a dying tome
  “Seraphim!  Seraphim!
    Let them breathe.
    Let them go!”

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Symphony of the Dead

Tomes echo from the tombs of the creatively decayed.  They are in rotted mind, flesh bound incarcerated.

Down-tuned distortion accompanies the heavy beat of my heart.  Souls wail a Sirens song stirring their demons in a whirlpool of fear…(which is why they are kept here.)

Rattled bones play rhythm from within’ the mausoleum.  Those walls of death and frozen breath exude low and hollowed moans, bringing the past to the present in drone after drone..

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His Heart Urns For Amnesty...

The child is alone. Home. Without walls. The ground is wet with snow cover, slush & icy mud. His toes frozen beyond his senses. His eyes dry and cracked from the frozen film of earlier tears, his vision clouded. His cheek, a mix of swollen heat and frosted blood. Goosebumps under his sweater, his coat hanging in his closet. The wind throws him off balance, he tries to regain his footing, but slips on black ice.

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