I wrote

Darkness insinuates every fibre with corrupted poison of a mind turned mad. Such things in jaded vision a beasts mind would turn to fear on the turn of a coin. To pay the ferryman a tuppence for the rope. Stretch it forth to heaven and see angelic faces run. I hath become the creature that dwells in nightmare parties. The guests each and every all marked for the grave. A damned little gathering of vicious eyes that stare into beauty with the intensity of a crap storm. A collection of debris to carry away the sane. If only a conscious would allow the turn to power that accompanies the climb. A fall at the centre of the grand ball. Each sweet maiden a haunted demon who craves my soul. A hollow little box of nothing that contains so much more. Invisible to eyes un jaded but to the damned. A sight of tombstones in the land of the flame. Fire to the heart that beats in creative meltdown and consumes the wings of glory to carry forth the words of a fool. A crown into which I climb the fractures of a hand offered in pain. Curse to the eyes of the sighted and rope to stretch to heaven. From places sideways of South and in the corner of that speck of sand. Within the nightmare desert where blind men find a gift of clarity. Returned to them the marble gems of a faces window. Cold dead life to erupt the fathoms upon which a black hole takes out the light of moonless forests. To wander deep into the shallows of what I love. Even if the end is a beginning to the grave I shall repeat

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3 thoughts on “I wrote

  1. Melikes this one, very dark. FYI, I found the setting that allows for email delivery rather than my prying the cobwebs off the wordpress reader looking for your posts. Tell me more about meatloaf and comas!

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