Black dress and sunglasses
A beacon of the night
The street stands still and shaking like an old silent movie
I'm almost ready to draw the curtain
She smokes, blowing killer's ash in the air. The lights on the block only capture her clear doll face with that relaxed, but cold stare veiled by shades. The shadows are just clear enough to display her curved and sculpted figure that's gotta belong to some sort of statue.
I'm beginning to wonder why there's no men nearby. A girl like that at this time of night is probably some kind of succubus or vampire, with victims drowning to death in ecstasy. You'd expect her to have wings, maybe feathered, or smooth and menacing. That silent shadow-blended woman's shape pulls in on the curiosity of superstition, and still won't let go.
Her hidden eyes
Wherever they are
They're probably staring something down
But she ain't a fighter
But she's already won
If you listened, you can figure out what
Dec 2, 2009
Oct 27, 2009
Excerpt
Carlos stood on the ground struggling. He began to feel his skin burn from the hot sun. William stood laughing ten yards from him, holding the torn piece of Carlos' vampire cloak in his hand.
"I never thought I could finish you so easily." William said, batting his gargoyle wings admirably.
Carlos stared straight ahead at William in dismay. He could not fathom losing at this moment. He reminded himself of needing to stop William before the Werewolf lord awakened. William could not gain any more power. He was already too dangerous. Carlos gathered up his strength and stood straight. His skin immediately burst into flames and he let out a growl in pain.
Carlos was now on his knees, his hands in the dirt and his face looking to the ground. The demonic entity inside him was thrashing for freedom. The demon thought at that moment that Carlos was going to die. Death for Carlos meant death for the demon. The sheer power of the demon was difficult for Carlos to handle. Carlos summoned up what holy power he could to keep the demon at bay, and to prevent possession. At looking ahead, Carlos saw William smiling, not having moved a step.
The demon now struggled to free itself with all its might. Carlos floated up in the air, growling. The demon's voice started to come through more and more as Carlos levitated high above the ground.
"I'm glad you will make this at least a challenge!" William screamed up into the air.
Carlos was doing his best to fill his body up with holy energy. This would be the worst time to let the demon take over, yet Carlos felt it near complete possession.
"Don't try to stop it. Holy and demonic are like oil and water. Your body will tear to pieces."
Carlos let out a last effort. A highly audible demonic growl escaped him, and dust came flying up in the air rapidly.
William shielded his eyes from the dust and waited for the thump of Carlos' body hitting the ground. A moment later and there was not a sound but the wind blowing. William squinted up into the dust cloud and became startled and shocked. In this dust cloud was a dark angelic figure, wings spread and floating, towering at around ten feet. The presence of it was not angelic, yet not demonic. The presence was purely dark and ominous. The presence of death.
"I am an angel of death." Said the figure. The voice was a powerful hiss. It came to William's ears as if being spoken into directly from both sides, and from the sound of a thousand people standing in a stadium, and from a person standing straight in front. The voice alone immediately turned all the fear on to William.
"I never thought I could finish you so easily." William said, batting his gargoyle wings admirably.
Carlos stared straight ahead at William in dismay. He could not fathom losing at this moment. He reminded himself of needing to stop William before the Werewolf lord awakened. William could not gain any more power. He was already too dangerous. Carlos gathered up his strength and stood straight. His skin immediately burst into flames and he let out a growl in pain.
Carlos was now on his knees, his hands in the dirt and his face looking to the ground. The demonic entity inside him was thrashing for freedom. The demon thought at that moment that Carlos was going to die. Death for Carlos meant death for the demon. The sheer power of the demon was difficult for Carlos to handle. Carlos summoned up what holy power he could to keep the demon at bay, and to prevent possession. At looking ahead, Carlos saw William smiling, not having moved a step.
The demon now struggled to free itself with all its might. Carlos floated up in the air, growling. The demon's voice started to come through more and more as Carlos levitated high above the ground.
"I'm glad you will make this at least a challenge!" William screamed up into the air.
Carlos was doing his best to fill his body up with holy energy. This would be the worst time to let the demon take over, yet Carlos felt it near complete possession.
"Don't try to stop it. Holy and demonic are like oil and water. Your body will tear to pieces."
Carlos let out a last effort. A highly audible demonic growl escaped him, and dust came flying up in the air rapidly.
William shielded his eyes from the dust and waited for the thump of Carlos' body hitting the ground. A moment later and there was not a sound but the wind blowing. William squinted up into the dust cloud and became startled and shocked. In this dust cloud was a dark angelic figure, wings spread and floating, towering at around ten feet. The presence of it was not angelic, yet not demonic. The presence was purely dark and ominous. The presence of death.
"I am an angel of death." Said the figure. The voice was a powerful hiss. It came to William's ears as if being spoken into directly from both sides, and from the sound of a thousand people standing in a stadium, and from a person standing straight in front. The voice alone immediately turned all the fear on to William.
Oct 15, 2009
The Mirror Well - Part I
Carol brushed her dark crimson behind her shoulder to prevent it from falling in front of her face as she peered down into the river. She was sitting on the edge of a stone bridge. The bridge was old and dirty, and no one ever came to use it. The road that once went over the bridge became shrouded by forest and vines began to grow through the bricks.
This specific moment was rather peculiar for her. The day was dark and dreary, as usual for her. The sky was grey and rain was scattering throughout every inch of the earth. Yet the spot she was sitting in was sunny. She saw the water sparkling then looked up at the sky to confirm that the sun was indeed out. Next, she rolled up the sleeve of her left arm and examined the scars on her wrist in this new light. She sighed and rolled the sleeve back down, peering off into the gray distance.
"Don't do it." Immediately the voice of Dave, her dead childhood friend came into her head. She always had been infatuated with him but never told him. Ever since he died she obsessively thought about what he would think of her actions. The obsession eventually lead to him being a voice in her head.
Her face sunk more so than before as she remembered the photo displayed on his coffin at the funeral. He was smiling, happy as ever. Positive as ever. She always envied him and wondered how he did it. He had been through much more than she had. He was part of the witness protection program, and she had never been told what he had witnessed. The times they were alone and she desperately tried to get it out of him, she was often beaten to the point of bleeding. A less frequent, but not uncommon occurrence was him vomiting uncontrollably and tearing his own skin off, usually the back of his hands. He would always scream the same unintelligible words, which always appeared to be coming from the mouth of a young child. She sighed and remembered to trust him, as she turned around and set off walking off of the bridge.
As she stared off at the endless circle of trees she felt comfortable. She rubbed the new cluster of bruises on her right shoulder that her boyfriend had given to her earlier that day. He failed another test, and he had no money to buy weed. She felt her right pocket, remembering that she had some salvia, and her pipe. She reached into left jacket pocket and removed her lighter.
Music
Adagio - Archangels In Black (yes, the entire album)
Desiderii Marginis - Deadbeat (the entire album)
This specific moment was rather peculiar for her. The day was dark and dreary, as usual for her. The sky was grey and rain was scattering throughout every inch of the earth. Yet the spot she was sitting in was sunny. She saw the water sparkling then looked up at the sky to confirm that the sun was indeed out. Next, she rolled up the sleeve of her left arm and examined the scars on her wrist in this new light. She sighed and rolled the sleeve back down, peering off into the gray distance.
"Don't do it." Immediately the voice of Dave, her dead childhood friend came into her head. She always had been infatuated with him but never told him. Ever since he died she obsessively thought about what he would think of her actions. The obsession eventually lead to him being a voice in her head.
Her face sunk more so than before as she remembered the photo displayed on his coffin at the funeral. He was smiling, happy as ever. Positive as ever. She always envied him and wondered how he did it. He had been through much more than she had. He was part of the witness protection program, and she had never been told what he had witnessed. The times they were alone and she desperately tried to get it out of him, she was often beaten to the point of bleeding. A less frequent, but not uncommon occurrence was him vomiting uncontrollably and tearing his own skin off, usually the back of his hands. He would always scream the same unintelligible words, which always appeared to be coming from the mouth of a young child. She sighed and remembered to trust him, as she turned around and set off walking off of the bridge.
As she stared off at the endless circle of trees she felt comfortable. She rubbed the new cluster of bruises on her right shoulder that her boyfriend had given to her earlier that day. He failed another test, and he had no money to buy weed. She felt her right pocket, remembering that she had some salvia, and her pipe. She reached into left jacket pocket and removed her lighter.
Music
Adagio - Archangels In Black (yes, the entire album)
Desiderii Marginis - Deadbeat (the entire album)
Oct 4, 2009
Raven
If a raven's eye caught my hand and knew
If it could know what I was about
If it could see the shadows
Would it peck the flesh off of my bones?
Is the raven's eye that of the accuser?
Then why raven do you sit so still?
Speak you vile crow!
Like a monster it steals the moonlight
Its beak forms a perfect smile of the darkest knowledge
It knows
It knows
It knows
Scream raven!
Crow at the moon and bring me the secrets!
Scream if it means me death!
Oh, but now raven I see you too
I look through your hollow bones
I see your thoughts
Those blue wisps pulsating away at the red fragments of my interruption
Your eyes that thieve the moon of its splendor
I now possess them within my veins
I have your knowledge on top of my curling tongue
Whisper raven
Whisper your secrets to me
They are not lost upon my spirit
If it could know what I was about
If it could see the shadows
Would it peck the flesh off of my bones?
Is the raven's eye that of the accuser?
Then why raven do you sit so still?
Speak you vile crow!
Like a monster it steals the moonlight
Its beak forms a perfect smile of the darkest knowledge
It knows
It knows
It knows
Scream raven!
Crow at the moon and bring me the secrets!
Scream if it means me death!
Oh, but now raven I see you too
I look through your hollow bones
I see your thoughts
Those blue wisps pulsating away at the red fragments of my interruption
Your eyes that thieve the moon of its splendor
I now possess them within my veins
I have your knowledge on top of my curling tongue
Whisper raven
Whisper your secrets to me
They are not lost upon my spirit
Untitled
Time is the slowest moving thread from the needle by my eye
The gate of teeth and chains closes before my soul
It will not open
The teeth won't turn to flowers
The chains won't turn to vines
My blood won't become wine
But the gate opens when it hears her footsteps
The touch of her hand erases my claws
The touch of her lips removes my fangs
My gate is now a doorway
The chains are now vines bearing sweet grapes
The blood is now wine that we drink
We celebrate
Inside the gate is a garden
The stairs of the words we speak lead to the fountain
Of my soul
Her soul
The gate of teeth and chains closes before my soul
It will not open
The teeth won't turn to flowers
The chains won't turn to vines
My blood won't become wine
But the gate opens when it hears her footsteps
The touch of her hand erases my claws
The touch of her lips removes my fangs
My gate is now a doorway
The chains are now vines bearing sweet grapes
The blood is now wine that we drink
We celebrate
Inside the gate is a garden
The stairs of the words we speak lead to the fountain
Of my soul
Her soul
Sep 15, 2009
Mine - Part 1 of a Story
It's beautiful down there. The streets are clean and the business of my dwellers is winding down. I make a trip across the sky, with the sun frozen near a complete sunset, to watch upon my creations.
The peaceful lack of light is wonderful, but it is not too dark. I have my eye on a girl who is walking home innocently through the park. There is a spring in her every step. She has the most wonderful life in the world. Her lips form the greatest smile to herself. I look at her beautiful face and admire my creation. Her figure is absolutely perfect down to the last detail. She is only seventeen years of age but looks very mature. Her brown curly hair perfectly compliments her beautiful white skin and eyeless face. She has not a trait in her that can be turned ugly and monstrous.
I sense an odd disturbance by the trees. It is something moving hidden like a rat, and strike unexpectedly, like other. It comes out. Three tall men. Black skin. A very intimidating appearance. They focus their ugly eyeless faces on her and make a dash at her. She can't get away, but she tries. Her entire day becomes reversed. The magnitude of her happiness has now turned to fear and sadness.
The men grab her and tear through her clothes without wasting a moment. Their disgusting naked bodies hold her while she tries to break free. Two of them have her still on the ground while the third attempts to defile her immaculate body with his own putridity.
I can't have this.
I appear behind him and my mechanical hands with thin metal fingers dig into his back. My needle-tipped fingers dig through his flesh and leave him unable to fight back out of pain. My body turns black and soft like a shadow. I retain the sharpness of my talons and my teeth grow to form a deathtrap of fangs. I can fight back this time. The first I rip into pieces, his flesh evaporates off of the ground and forms sickly black clouds of impurity. The other two still do not leave. I reach my long over and grab the first and get a good grip on his shoulder. He is bleeding and I tear his arm off.
"This is mine! Mine!" I yelled. The third ran, escaping into my world, where it would multiply again.
I couldn't win again.
Music
Skinny Puppy - Rash Reflection
Skinny Puppy - Nature's Revenge
Unexpect - Constellation and Mysticism
The peaceful lack of light is wonderful, but it is not too dark. I have my eye on a girl who is walking home innocently through the park. There is a spring in her every step. She has the most wonderful life in the world. Her lips form the greatest smile to herself. I look at her beautiful face and admire my creation. Her figure is absolutely perfect down to the last detail. She is only seventeen years of age but looks very mature. Her brown curly hair perfectly compliments her beautiful white skin and eyeless face. She has not a trait in her that can be turned ugly and monstrous.
I sense an odd disturbance by the trees. It is something moving hidden like a rat, and strike unexpectedly, like other. It comes out. Three tall men. Black skin. A very intimidating appearance. They focus their ugly eyeless faces on her and make a dash at her. She can't get away, but she tries. Her entire day becomes reversed. The magnitude of her happiness has now turned to fear and sadness.
The men grab her and tear through her clothes without wasting a moment. Their disgusting naked bodies hold her while she tries to break free. Two of them have her still on the ground while the third attempts to defile her immaculate body with his own putridity.
I can't have this.
I appear behind him and my mechanical hands with thin metal fingers dig into his back. My needle-tipped fingers dig through his flesh and leave him unable to fight back out of pain. My body turns black and soft like a shadow. I retain the sharpness of my talons and my teeth grow to form a deathtrap of fangs. I can fight back this time. The first I rip into pieces, his flesh evaporates off of the ground and forms sickly black clouds of impurity. The other two still do not leave. I reach my long over and grab the first and get a good grip on his shoulder. He is bleeding and I tear his arm off.
"This is mine! Mine!" I yelled. The third ran, escaping into my world, where it would multiply again.
I couldn't win again.
Music
Skinny Puppy - Rash Reflection
Skinny Puppy - Nature's Revenge
Unexpect - Constellation and Mysticism
Sep 13, 2009
Juice
While stopping at a gas station in Colombia me, my sister, my mother, and my aunt had an encounter with a young boy selling juice to support his family. Seeing poverty like this had got me thinking for a while. This differs from those commercials of an old man holding up a little girl in a dirty little place filled with huts.
He looks apathetic
As if this is a routine
It seems so sick
He doesn’t seem to mind
The dirt has become a part of his face
He was born
This is his place
He holds it without scorn
No time for youth
No chance of learning
But he can return
Once all the juice has left the box
His age is not known
It is apparent his innocence is gone
He knows what I am
But will never understand
I know what he is
But I can only hope
We share an inquiring look
For the most split of seconds
Yet we break it and we are left
With only a foot placed on the bridge
A foot which we both take away
I remove it out of unwillingness
He removes because he can’t cross
We are both found where we started
Were we ever lost?
I am just another face
From time to time he may ponder
That he may not be to me
He may be more
But now he is touched with money
He didn’t even have to sell anything
He knows what matters
Yet he knows not I’m touched with memory
Yet none of this matters
Once all the juice has left the box
He looks apathetic
As if this is a routine
It seems so sick
He doesn’t seem to mind
The dirt has become a part of his face
He was born
This is his place
He holds it without scorn
No time for youth
No chance of learning
But he can return
Once all the juice has left the box
His age is not known
It is apparent his innocence is gone
He knows what I am
But will never understand
I know what he is
But I can only hope
We share an inquiring look
For the most split of seconds
Yet we break it and we are left
With only a foot placed on the bridge
A foot which we both take away
I remove it out of unwillingness
He removes because he can’t cross
We are both found where we started
Were we ever lost?
I am just another face
From time to time he may ponder
That he may not be to me
He may be more
But now he is touched with money
He didn’t even have to sell anything
He knows what matters
Yet he knows not I’m touched with memory
Yet none of this matters
Once all the juice has left the box
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