Red Book

Bluekey MaaloxBluekey Maalox Posts: 19
edited March 2005 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
I thought to seek purity-
I was tainted more.

I thought I wanted light;
I led myself to darkness.

I thought I was before;
I am not even now.

I thought I could see;
I prayed that you'd obscure me.

Thought I won the fight;
Mytrophy buried me.

The things that live down below
Don't have any eyes.
They have to feel their way around.
Their feelings make them wise.
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • I've been paid handsomely
    By demons to tell lies.

    I've made pacts with evil spies(sociotites)
    Just to stay alive.

    I don't want to go where they go
    When they go away.

    I've torn apart their disguises.
    Devils birth their babes.

    I pray now, peacefully.
    Make my music sing.

    Make me true, can i salvage?
    Have i wasted my hour?
    (sweetness)Soul is too discreet.
    Silence, in, I cower.
  • I've exalted what is poison
    Tortured what can cure me.

    By accident i'm frozen
    To love to sin, salute me.
    The fear of feeling pain
    Just to slay the game.

    Satan loves trite poetry
    Controlling every motion

    I want to kill you, evil one.
    Your laughter be undone.

    Reigning on me, i am a throne used.
    The former eats the latter. nothing is disclosed, hurts.
    cherish the purest excercise.
    Cast out evil, know it.
  • Rest, earn, raise
    Fall in yesterdays.

    trapping all the planets
    where the lights go out

    Blind it, crime did, something crying, growing.
    Signed it gring it, corroding and forboding.

    Make me seek, make me see
    Sieze the winter breeze.

    Peace offering. Peace of trees
    Splintering in me the freeze

    Rage, silently. appease the winter months
    A spce is made where be exposed the vile innocence
    in the coldest parts of nether the book is getting bleak
    tie your toil to the tether, the innocent mystique.
  • I had to go to an Anglo-Saxon dictionary to find the meaning of the word 'gring'. It's a noun for slaughter.
  • The lowest temperature deceased me.
    distant relative I, in me, fight.

    Must wrestle with the god who lies.
    lie vacant breaking part the night

    Sick celestial uncle, never would release me.
    devil sell me back my soul, i admnit your light too bright.

    A deadly game played, being.
    Tormented by the sight.

    the stakes are racing; snakes are stealing.
    Meet me in the day.

    Fortunate to find a hatred for the rise.
    the evil ones look down on those who cannot fly
    I want to solve the puzzle, and be on the good side.
    Send me then to hell if by it i be healed.
  • forgive me my arrogance.
    I stare into a mirror at me.

    The door, the window.. wall.
    Run raight through them all.

    Tempted by the fire in the center of it all.
    there against the bleeding, bellow a final call.

    Hape- a word that hopefully means nothing.
    So that,contemplating it, I may rest.

    All the passages in the sand.
    the sand is my psychosis.

    Lore did doom me withe honor
    Of finding that i chose this.
    Blisters what is, the chi reaching.
    Osmosis, therapy, conquered all divining.
  • Break all the mirrors.
    They tell you lies.

    There is a chance of compromise.
    Half withit and half without; half a silence, half shout.

    Division breeds breakdown.
    Seeds within make more.

    A plea to unify, but what is it for?
    We naked know the central core.

    The garments fight with us;they have their lies,too..
    The gaurdians frighten us, protect a Zion new.

    Hail the fallen leaf; its grievous stand adored.
    An ache to know what truth is passing, expanding an organic pride.
    Plotting a former universe's shore; the end i make, the future cried.
    And nigh descent(where i come from).
  • the carriage be decieved.
    The angels into demols be relieved.

    It is ugly inside, pretty faces turn away.
    Like to think i'm terrorised by greed in ways might i have smugly cried.

    Does my soul just play a game?
    Right some long myth for what gain?

    An apple dost berieve me!?
    Noose, whose is it. on what ground?

    Ewe lie to go to sleep.
    What better things grow on the sheep?

    I make myself a madman.
    Is someonething caring for me?
    Have i pushed away my tender?
    I ask it all back for me.
  • I wish, wish hard.
    Monstrousness of a fucking.

    Deviance is it? Yearning for shadows?
    Led wrong? A path insane?

    Trine Trine Trine, what lost, harmed
    Something fallen from my arms.

    Everyone knows, is hiding.
    The paint does well to disguise the demons, our brothers.

    Hate hate hate the late throes.
    Punished, neglect for what we shed.

    The garden is gone.
    Trees programmed to reobey.
    The freeing fondled.
    Formaldehyde raped gray clay.
Sign In or Register to comment.