

VictoryYou feel the rain, You see the lightning, You hear the thunder, You taste the Gods, You smell the victory.Victory


Why????Why do I fear? Why do I cry? Why do I smile? Why do I care?Why????
I do not know why I do these things as they are not hidden from you… the real me is not hidden from you… go away and leave me alone to think on things and be a person who I like to be… I don’t like being this free… I don’t like being this open… I don’t like being this vulnerable… Why did you come into my life? I did not ask for your help… I did not even want it… leave me be to be the person that I know I am… the one that I trust and the one I love… although I live in the past I am here in the present… I don’t want to be here any more… the fea


A freinds WorkBasking in their own mortality they shroud themselves in the denial of the inevitable. As they laugh at those who surrender they cry their pitiful excuses to a god who never once did exist. Hoping for forgiveness, trying to atone for all their fabricated truths. They do not scream when their blood is lapped up by lies, so convinced that they are the Martyrs. The virginal sacrifices that are really the filthiest whores of them all.A freinds Work
Still they pray to a deity who is, in truth, simply a manifestation of their eventual death.
Such is humanity.


Charisma's SonnetWhen hopes and dreams do fall away from me, Despair does fill my heart with dread and pain. When happiness does run away and flee, So does my soul hurt all over again.Charisma's Sonnet
I endlessly wander down wide and blank halls, I visit the cells of hell within my soul. With mud and stone and no windows for walls, For my whole life I’ve been but a rag doll.
In life I’d want nothing more than to please, Left struggling all alone out in the cold, And being tossed and twirled and thrown and swirled.
Instead of being thought as a disease, I’m facing what’s ahead now bra


The MountainPoetic rhymes flow through my mind like water down a mountain.The Mountain
Slowly wearing away at the ground that is my mind, concealed only by the beautiful words of pain that flow down the hills of the years of my life.
Eventually the beauty fades and the river of poetic beauty runs dry revealing the deep scar etched into the hillside.
Distorting the once tranquil and surreal enviroment, turning it into a dark and twisted landscape of a poor boys life.
Over time the river is forgotten, overtaken by the years, only to resurface to destroy an establishment


TATTOOTATTOOTATTOO
Tiny tears, the skin is filled The pain now pleasure - I sigh at the pressure. The blood now tears
You've left your mark.
Kiss.
The sweet kiss of pain Spirals. Wire. Barbs. Upon my spine Sending chills... i don't mind the blood, It spill like a river ALong the valley of my spine
You've left your mark
Dye,
These pigments. This flesh Caress it with this agony Paint the black heart. The centre of all Roses and thorns No pain at all...
You've left your mark.
Devious Comments
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For those that know, they do. For those that don't....well, they don't
Excellent expression of emotion in hopelessness. Is a piece that everyone can relate to at some stage in life
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History is the record of an encounter between character and circumstances...
~donald Creighton.
okay, i settle down now.
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