Dating Profiles for the Damned

This profile will draw no success, for the lies and truths we spill in honest attempts at finding love have earned no such honour or mercy for their damning returns of emotional death

To hunt the beast so consuming of pain is a thankless task by even the standards of the damned, yet we cram helpless words of fated failure onto electronic pages to be judged by strangers whose idea of us is as a cover of a book, a book a thousand pages and beyond

To scream truth a luckless condemnation yet when we spew lies it only leads to the same fatal silence, a word filled void of anything that in the measure of life means as much of nothing as the screaming truth where we first found condemnation lurking in the lonely dark

A faulted voice in a million cries will find a faded corner of that endless ocean where no one but the ship wrecks and misunderstood throw themselves against the rocks to die

So to love I say you are the greatest treasure that a mortal may possess, or to those who find you lacking are by that void a poisoned group who will drown in sorrows at the bottom of a refilling glass of venom flowing from the grave wound that cuts beyond the measures of depth

And the cosmic joke so laughter filled in the air of all twistedly cruel sorrow; To be surrounded by happy couples and loves sickeningly positive results yet in never relenting attempts to find life’s greatest cure, only find a vodka bottle and be denied the ability to even drink away the wretched taste of soured life

Loneliness a fatal pill to rattle deep in the endless hollow of fated forms so crushed by the loss of hope, yet walking still in stunted step to the marching beat set by those better blessed and forced to hunt the heart shaped beast to no avail

Advertisements

A Shadows Return

The bottle of a shadow’s intent, the glass cast angry to the corner

The death of a hearts repent, turn suffering to pure torture

Till all I am is a shadow, a reflection of something hollow

So that even an angel’s tears, my soul could not conjure

Change

To whence eyes looked forward, the price thier soul
For those who aspired, the cost too high
And whom stands a halt to progress, marked the fool
To whence eyes refuse to look forward and decline to play
The price is all humanity, which ever way we go

A Respectful Comment

In which lies love, the head or the heart or alas a mortal game
To where lies pain, the soul, mind or percieved wrong
In what lies death, that of mental adsence or the fading of psyical form

What is it to be human, as I am that in all but who I know I am…