Roland Posted April 8, 2010 Report Share Posted April 8, 2010 The Tormented Soul The turmoil faced is liken to the eagle kidnapped from the nest. I can hear her cries for me. Lost. Alone. I search, and I see: Ripping and tearing, teeth ravage the little one, as he savors each morsel. The blood cascades down his throat - euphoria hiding the darkness in his soul. The sun does not shine. The stars do not glimmer. It is evil that strangles his heart. Forgotten by many, his vengence is swift and merciless. He has taken you from me, and the innocent will suffer. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Totenkopf Posted April 8, 2010 Report Share Posted April 8, 2010 (edited) Roses are black, Violets are grey, Let's all brood and suffer Cause life's not that gay! (and that's fun gay, not homosexual gay, of course ) Edited April 8, 2010 by Totenkopf Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tarquinus Posted April 8, 2010 Report Share Posted April 8, 2010 (edited) [u]littoral lament[/u] In the sands of a beach mourning the ocean that once overwhelmed it with her kisses, my conscience is a fragment of clypeasteroid test amid sun-drunk bones as thin as needles. I look back to the days of stone, left behind when summer was new, when storms frowned on my lineage and the wind everywhere chased sentiments twisting through contentious skies. Every speck around me was once a mountain, hopes ground to tiny regrets by wind, water, and time. My histories lie derelict in vapid footprints of doomed men and weeping horses. The muses hear nothing of me and my salt sits lost to the earthly shadows all these centuries. My legacy is scornful chance, an eye caught for the shavings of an instant and cast upon the distant lie of water. I point nowhere and my tomorrows suffocate, encrypted, the ashes of grandfathers churned and entombed in restive dunes. This horizon's funeral beshrouds the vespers of today's cenobites, a veil, silent thunder uncoiling, unbending. I join the chant, a dirge to hours fallen battling jealous sloth. The confused arc of the heavens' twilight collapses - still my idiot heart, numb my soles, quench the burning of my brain. This is a good death. I wait in the surge of darkness. [b]edited to expunge a few linking verbs[/b] Edited April 9, 2010 by Tarquinus Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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