Smiling back at darkness of unnatural comfort.


Ten miles from where I lie

Is a light.

It speaks to me,

Whispering sweet lies into my ears

Such as only the evilness would be able to conjure.


The light is like a waxing moon

Always expanding with graceful words

And blessed deceit;

Never lessening in size.


Hundreds of miles from where this light is

I am.

And I have always been

So fantastic

So extreme


Rising in might like myself

Comparing a great musicians work

With a sombre note.


I never believed myself to be a victim of insanity

But now it seems

That it grasped me.


How can I unfold again?

I am a withering tree in bloom,

I am a sun unshining.


My nature

A presentation of myself

The nature of a thought


Though being a thought should mean

No limits.

I should be evolving every second

And yet I do not.


Perhaps there is something

A truth which has not yet

Come alive



I am not determined on peace

Neither am I peaceful.


Bury my thoughts in trash of guilt

Hatred slips into my heart

Call upon wings of darkness

I can name what I desire.


There is no love

There is no pain

There is no truth

There is no nothing.


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