pretty lies - ugly truths
Set at 11:37 on December 29, 2016
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Quote: woman are like modern paintings ... you'll never enjoy them if you try to understand them
WELCOME
the absence of
self absorbed - self description
is intentional
The Winter of my Soul
Ice is forming in my heart.
Blood that once ran fast and free,
now trickles,
through the ice cold arteries of my soul.
I've never known this Winters chill
that fills me to the bone.
Hates cold stare of emptiness.
No life,
No love,
No home.
The Winter of my Soul is grey,
more black than it is white.
Ice now solid in my viens.
In death I will delight.
zero state
thoughts of death by suicide
dance within my brain.
my friends i had in childhood
left out in the rain.
my soul once warm and sunny
the smile upon my face.
now are faded memories
ones i can't replace.
i'm dreaming in my bed awake
swimming in my pain.
planning for my funeral
totally insaine.
into the darkness
with you bring
serpents eyes, and devils wings
forget about the living things
on the other side.
your deeds
once thought to be corrupt
the pact you made, the deal you struck
your rotten, ugly, fucking luck
now must be your pride.
so feed your cattle
fear and pain
bloody torture, don't restrain
smash thier skulls, then eat thier brains
or watch your favor slide.
as in the light
you're still his pawn
distain is how you're looked upon
you'll never see another dawn
on the other side.
paper crown
the penalty for life is death
it shouldn't be that way....but it is
for only through the fear of the unknown
can the good shepards maintain control
and retain thier crowns.
fire and brimstone
spew from the book
of life....and death
as read by the beast in the white robes
the king of clowns
Fill my basket little lamb
with gifts of silver and gold
for only i can protect you
from a sea of blood
where you will drown
so says the king of clowns
with tales of hell beneath the ground
pompus in his paper crown
i wonder what jesus would say
if he were around ?
body and blood
sheep and ministers
drink from the same cup
of sin and blood
that once refreshed
the son of man.
all are greedy
for thier share
of salvation.
they don't realize
that the cup
contains cheap wine,
and that the son of man
absorbed thier sins
as he was being betrayed
before his fathers eyes.
you can drink,
but can you read ?
you can ask,
but can you receive ?
you can pose,
but do you believe ?
it's easy to look good
in the eyes of greedy sheep
and narrow clergy.
that's why the prince calls them cattle
and feast at will
on the fear and uncertanty
they carry from the cup.
want a cracker to go with that ?
The rose is red
The violet blue
My love for you is true.
The things I've done
The things I'll do
Are things all just for you.
Red the rose
Her fragrance sings
Her thornes however sting.
The violets blue
While nothing new
Is always true to you.
I've been gone
It seems so long
That only heaven knows.
Two things are true
The violets blue
And red is in the rose.
I open up my heart to you
in ways I hope will show.
Like white upon the covered ground
from freshly fallen snow.
I hope we can forever be...
...and never be apart.
Together through eternity
when this world we depart.
tragic little precious,
only tried to help.
tragic little precious,
bleeding she would melt.
say a little prayer now,
sing a little song.
tragic little precious,
sorry that you're gone.
when i look into your eyes
it never seems the same.
sometimes you're so forgiving,
and patience is your game.
sometimes you have a cold edge,
it cuts me like a sword.
sometimes you look right through me,
as though you're rather bored.
sometimes you look so happy,
i wish that mood would last.
it's then that i remember,
our love is in the past.
city drat
the city drat
looks good in leather and ink.
you could assume
this to be the sign of a hunter,
but no ...
the city drat
plays music in dark smokey bars.
you might think him an evil pied piper of sorts,
a mystic demon with a twist.
sounds interesting ... but wait
the city drat
moves fast like a cheetah.
many have looked over thier shoulder
to see him closing in on them.
fear not ... he's only having fun
the city drat ... unlike lestat,
loves beer, and lives in human years.
racing bikes, is what he likes,
and he carries art, within his heart.
no lie ... he's such a drat !
liberty
she sings a lulliby
as gentle waves
caress her shoreline
and moonlight dances
with the blood
and treasure
of a failed nation
she lets the sound
of the waves
now toxic
with the urine of man
provide the rythem
for a song
that only she can hear
she knows
the end is near
and soon
she will crumble
as did
the towers before her
into the abiss
she sings her song
in silence
and sorrow
while red and blue rats
consume her dream
and a blinding white light
will bring with it
the end
i'll be there waiting
when darkness falls
and you are in
a caskets walls
with severed heads
from shredded dolls
where only i
can hear your calls
i'll make you lay down
on the floor
and proove to me
you are my whore
in a room
that has no door
you'll then receive your wings
wings to fly
above the earth
bloody stains upon your skirt
devils little afterbirth
another pawn
of little worth
pledge your soul to me
damaged goods
i always hear people talking about
looking for, or finding
that perfect soulmate
the ying for thier yang
how perfect they must be
but perfect wouldn't work for me
i also hear people saying that
opposites attract
come on now
gimme a fucking break !
if ya really believe that
you'll be back to the well
and what's this talk of
opening up to another human being ?
you know, letting down the wall
saying what you really feel
and what you truly believe in
now that would take some courage
hmmm, makes me feel like
damaged goods, but that's alrite
inperfection is fertile ground
for unholy alliences the heart
where yesterdays persicutions
can become tomorrows dreams
and blackened hearts can join as one
paranoia
floating through a world
of never ending hate
i hate myself for loving you
and thinking it was fake
i hate the way that you were rite
and i was always wrong
the paranoia in my brain
stringing me along
now that life is empty
and you're no longer there
the paranoia steps aside
and i realize that you cared
you cared enough to love me
you cared enough to bleed
you cared enough about yourself
that you didn't plead
now i know your love was real
and that it wasn't fake
my paranoia's smiling
i'm hating my mistakes
murders reward
the sweet salt air
feels soothing on my skin
as i dance naked
in the moons noon sun
shadows cast off
from the fire of the flesh
contort into oblivion
accross the cool moist sand
i can still taste
the nectar of the sacrifice
on my lips
and on the lips of my lover and lord
the intoxication of the hunt
is now replaced with sexual desire
bloodlust to extasy
murders reward
hells light will rise soon
with the morning sun
where outside of the shadows
we will surely burn
the morning tide is rising
and soon our sins
will be washed out into the sea
from where mortal life evolved
or so they say
have you ever tasted blood ?,
you know ...
as nourishment.
i have, i didn't like it ...
but i liked the idea.
have you ever hurt someone ?,
you know ...
for sport.
i have, but the terror in thier eyes ...
terrified me.
have you ever been burnt by the sun ?,
you know ...
when it's light burns your exposed flesh ...
I have, but to hide in the shadows ...
would seem cowardly.
have you ever thought about eternity ?,
you know ...
eternity on earth.
i have, but forever's a long time ...
too long for me.
do you ever daydream about things ?,
you know ...
sexy, seductive, supernatural things.
i do, but when i look into a mirror ...
i want to see myself.
i guess i'm just destined for the mortal life,
you know ...
suntans, grey hair, and grandchildren.
a life of short years ...
to love and to cherish.
day of the dead
night of delight
where do we go
when we follow the light ?
our bodies are buried
or cooked down to ash
except kieth richards father
who was snorted as stash
on the day of the dead
when the party is done
we pour one more tall one
then pick up a gun
we think of the dead
and the dead start to cry
they know how we're feeling
and what we will try
they send us a message
we can't even hear
the gun's getting heavy
so is the beer
with the dead in our heart
we drift off to sleep
gun on the table
dried tears on our cheeks
day of the dead
night of delight
where do we go
when we follow the light ?
You are Death
Change, Transformation, Alteration.
People fear this card, but if you want to change your life, this is one of the
best indicators for it. Whatever happens, life will be different. Yes, the Death card can signal a death in the right circumstances (a question about a very sick or old relative, for example), but unlike its dramatic presentation in the movies, the Death card is far more likely to signal transformation, passage, change. Scorpio, the sign of this card, has three forms: scorpion, serpent, eagle. The Death card indicates this transition from lower to higher to highest. This is a card of humility, and it may mean you have been brought low, but only so that you can then go higher than ever before. Death "humbles" all, but it also "exults." Always keep in mind that on this card of darkness there is featured a sunrise as well. You could be ready for a change.
What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.
somewhere out there
in the night
i feel your glory
your power and your might
and that song
from days gone by
within my chest
my heart it cries
I hold my breath
as you creep near
the sound within
reveals my fear
and the song
i hope
that only i
can hear
wild thing
you make my heart sing
you hear everything
wild thing
you sink your teeth in
now i'm yours
eternity
is now my curse
and the song
the song of bleeding
of human hearts
the song of feeding
monsters of man
enter lector
swagger of swine
bloody of mind
tell me it's time
to eat
enter dahmer
tricks up his sleeve
you'll never leave
your head in a box
he'll keep
enter bundy
so neat and clean
every moms dream
to him your girls life
was cheap
monsters of man
how art thou ?
bundy was fried in a diaper
dahmer...gulp, swallowed by prison justice
and lector ?
ahh, ficton allows him to swagger
into that dark corner of our mind
unscathed
where we are all
monsters of man
Thankyou for stopping by
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