My Dark Desires

And though it pains me., and but shakenly wanes me, to my very core…it is precedent, it is present and hereby necessitated…the obfuscation of the human species.  Man must die, and he must never live to see another moonlit eve.  It is here, children – of the night, I ask of thee, as I empower, and entreatingly plead to thee…

I beckoned and you answered – now heed my call, kill, murder, destroy, decimate, erase, desecrate, annihilate and eradicate any, and all remnants of that cursed plague, of that blight which is man…destroy humankind, and then take your own lives.  We do this, for the greater good of things – for the beneficence of our king of kings.  He commands it – so man, must die, so he spoke it, and we shall abide, by it.

Kill. Destroy. Murder. Decimate. Erase. Desecrate. Annihilate. Eradicate.

Take heed in the fulfilling sentiment of their ghastly screams…listen, children – to the beautifully dark sounds of their unrivalled, and eternalising agony.  Life: humankind, and human life, is but a plague – a sickness to the natural order, to the untainted, the consecrated, and unwitting…we are the enemy of life, we are death, and our destination – is hellfire. 

We deserve to suffer, and then to die – to revel in agony, for a thousand moons, and then cease to exist, forever below the suns’ crescent.  It is our role – it is our predestination; yea…, we are doomed from inheritance, and though it is tragic, in its foretelling, it is all bid, to a fate farewelling.  Death comes to us all, so I ask you simply hasten it.  Life ends for each and every-one of us, so I ask you simply take it.

Surrender thyself…falter thine animosity, and let go, thy sense of reasoning…for thou art here, and now – the Glorior, among us…thine essence is shone, and our presence known.
Yea, the time is nigh, and the happening now…for tomorrow is uncertain, and yesterday forgotten…henceforth, this great bane of long suffered kings, reigns – amid this throne, amidst us all…amongst thou now.

Concede to the darkened haplessness, of forlorn facets – affront to the dimming hopelessness.  Of lights, ever-reaching, how’t encompassing…though, always lessening, in their brilliance and fire.  Suffer thee, this fating not – for the darkest flickering, is assured to usurp.

The Endearment Ov Bereavement

Struggle. Confliction.  I’m struggled between two worlds – I am conflicted within myself.  The greatest facet of the Devil, is for man, and for darkness, in totality, to sympathize his story.  For one to relate, is to become reprobate.  To walk that dreaded path of sorrow, is of the most dangerous avenue, and of the most harrowed venue.
This is the grand revelation – the last befalling, and the great rumination, the ideology that has been written, but once, and has since remained driftless aloft thought, eternally…amassed at last, this, the duality of persona; yea, the dualism paradigm, of personification, of faceted likeness.

For those whom can decipher these texts, will behold all of mine secrets, in horror and greatness. 

Reveal this abstract puzzle, and understand the singularity never was – and henceforth, was always torn, but two, closely likened countenances, with antithetical values, views and roles.

There is a black and white, a dark and a light – an essence and a quintessence, a sense of evil, and a sense of good.

They are inseparable, as they’re entwined, but conjoined – with one longed purpose, and with one mind, torn, struggled and conflicted in itself.

There is but one surrealism in this abstractly-lidden dream, and that is the trinity, the three – enfolded and darkly moulded.

It is but one essential entity, responsible for all goodness, and all evil – for all atrocity, and all glory, for all horror, and all happiness.

Yet, this is a spirit of antiquity, one that is and was, nevermore – endless, foreverly, the endlessness.

This entwinement, this grand source, is emblematic to life – and death, both.

There is no hope, and yet, there is limitless hope.  There are two sides to every story, and two venues of approachable testimony, for all tid’ and beyond reviled bid.

One. Two.  Three, absolutely; behold, the mystery of iniquity, of antiquity, and of massless beauty.

There is always an ending, and there is no ending.  What are we, who do we?  Do ye believe in destiny, in predestination – or have you little faith, being void of all allotted grace?

Darkness. Light.  They become one greater, called twilight.  Forlorn, forewarned, beyond this – thee, the highest point, amassed the precipice.

Destination, and determination, veneration, and reverent imagination…the damnation, thus moored, they whom sing sad songs of sorrow, the elders, named twenty-four, purposeless, darkless, and lightless.

For what is this, if not a convolution, unparalleled?  What is life, if not a prerequisite to death, the inevitable?

The grave, laden the finality, the saved, remarked the remembrance, concaved.

Enshrouded, encapsulated, unfolded, and beseeched, for the greater cause – of purpose, without dismal inhibition, or vilesome clause.
To which force draws stronger, for which has more prominent, and promisingly encompassing reach?  Of which alignment, darkness, or light, draws your soul – and your very essence, toiled, untold?


Power, By Prayer: Deliverance

Rain your wrath and your mercy upon me, as I speak aloud these names, bless them, free them from their snares so cunning, remove from them the shackles of despair and darkness, aloft, nevermore alone…bring their spirits hope, and their souls peace…your peace, that peace which surpasses understanding. 
In your thrice-anointed and famed name, hear our prayer, entreatingly, in earnest honesty I plead thee…lift the veil, shone through the darkening gales of fog, and make death flee. I love you, holy one, highest one…thank you, Lord Jesus, Christos–the Christ…

The Objectification of Reason

Know you pain, know you suffering?
Lovers of light have no conceivability of pain, for they are secured in the loving waters of rebored salvation…only that broken, defeated and desolate lover of darkness knows true suffering, only that darkened spirit, of forlorn essence can comprehend the emptiness of lonesome dread…

Curse the lavish lover of life
The worst part, is when that cruelty begets evil, and succeeds…bearing forth wealth, beautiful family, health and prosperity, fame and gratitude…never famished, nor tried, having only fulfilment in their life — even after breaking and ruinously desolating another person, effectively forfeiting their life, plans, futures and opportunities…as robbing the opportunities, stricken hopeless and joyless, with grim permanence…

Tell me, wiser one…
What fairness, or proverbial reasoning is there for such absolute, and negated bleakness?  What kind, or form and semblance of an omniscient and altruistically benevolent god allows evil such flourishing, under ravishingly darkened skies…of weepingly and wearingly distraught inhabitancy?  The creator, how redound; the aboriginal thinker…allows such lamenting and sorrowful existence to flourish?  Gives evil such opportunities?  Why does death exist, having graven principality and boundless authority?  Decadence and dismay, entropy and decay…they reign unimaginable suffering always and forever, ceaselessly, without hope of remand, or reprieve. 

The unconveyable…, the irreceivable…
The depths of such absolute despair: thus laying waste to the spirit, the soul and the flesh…rejection, denial, betrayal and longing…these are the cornerstones of the foundation of misery, ov existence: these are the hallmarks of reprobation, unending…the indeterminable borrow of such unprecedented sorrow, of such lowly defeating malcontent, dissidence and wistful inheritance…there is no hell like this, the suffered so greatly magnificent, thus laid waste to mine dormant soul.  This estrangement, how bereaved; un-reprieved, the fallen fate, the cast ways’, the exiled defeat…theirs is the kingdom of sorrow, eternal…no greater pain exists, than that of the fallen, and desolated ones’.

What do we do?  How is such dealt?
With much repetition and reportorial ceaselessness, of un-acquitted and cyclic tomorrow’s…there is no future, no hope for tomorrow, and no sense or purpose to being, yet…we dread on, we concertedly press on, further, without contestable reason, without purposed quintessence…we live, suffer unto death, and die.  Life is the greatest natural depressant, and death, the most effectual antidepressant, though, and how no matter, the timeless antiquation, resplendent, quaintly stark, immutably, and damming, dimmingly, how faintly dark, this senseless serenade…

This, is that – Bridge so hapless…
The voiding emptiness weighs so heavily upon my soul…no matter the distance stowed…the coldest fog abhors this moor; darkness consumed the crying rivers around me…adrift, drifting longingly downward the endless streams…connectedness is torn, convergence inexistent, and harrowing absence pales this defeatingly broken foe…  So bleak the mistaken haplessness of this toll…waned, alone amidst solemnly brazen toil…  Pay attention to that brooding bush, where’st rooted to the grandest source, the only resource…the tree of life.

The Embrasured Heavenly

Glorior, how bleakly this foretelling…
Amorously, the harrowing emptiness…
Confessedly, the sweetness of the abyss’s preeminence…
Endlessly, falling, as though felled in lightless bliss…
Beholdest, the absence of the absolutist…
Darkly, the embrace of this emptiness…
As though, the sorrow seems bellowing, ceaseless…like downtrodden torrents.

The darkness, so beautiful, and the fading times, so profound…
Are we not allowed one fleeting remembrance of your esoterica, of your infallible nature?
But one eternalizing glimpse…into your reachless, and darkest abyss?
What is love if not a lie?  Love is a falsehood, a promise made to the predetermined and conformed masses…a deceit of prominent allusive dissidence…
Love once had, nevermore to be foreshadowed; loneliness once beheld, forgotten to the dusts of time…

Once lived, always loved…once alone, always destined to be alone.
These are intrinsic truths, absolutes… Life is meaningless, afar, from inception, to times’ farewelling…there is but one truth: the futility of life, contradicted, dismayed to elusive dilemma…from thenceforth the bore pain, unto the suffered desperation of forgotten bane… Henceforth, to death, and nothingness, evermore to desist, this far sided the bleakest truth of the nihilist.

The pained embrace,
The waned remembrance,
The faceless consuming…
The darkest ruling…
Contorted Longing,
Hapless Belonging,
Proudly, Darkening…
Foreverly, Falling…,
Uncontrollably, Felling…

The Haunting

How’t that waned darkness haunts me…
This’t, the bane of light, and essence of storm…
Therefore, the creeping serpent rests not…,
Til’fore, his season of enticement is fulfilled…
Rekindled, the separation eternal, and undefiled…

     To leave it all behind, the things you know, the people you love…it’s all so profoundly sad, how indescribably tragic…in the dismal element of nigh.
     That olden antiquity, the golden goat – the welkin lamb, this far from the precipice of eternity, the prophecies ceaseless, the promise unfulfilling…
     Hare, then – the gates are opened, and the monoliths awakened, wheres’t the flesh meets the grounded soils, and the spirit-world becomes the shadow-world…
     This, uttered to the soul, and the darkening dismay – there is no sorrow greater than this – reprobated solemnity.
     How, forced to longingly await – assured doom and damnation, under crescents of rippling sunshine, atop the forbadem, still to the forewarned resplendence…
     Admittedly, thenceforth, the absolute wallowing, of entropic dissidences, and mournful shores, so darkless…, so…endless;
     Behold, the erected cross of cavalry, and beholden, the laden serpentine of negation, unhallowed – unto suffering, unbarred…
     I tell thee, there is no hell like this, the inescapable terror, and the eternalising horror of the mind – of our fleshed cage, so bounding…, subject to the unknowably higher forces of twilight, where-then boundless, the spiritual quintessence of our felling souls, where agony is unrivalled, and harrowing ordeal, surreal…
     Godlessness, bleakness, this far wayward, of oblivion, and contritely irreversible consequence – to the forbearer of the fallen torch, of depthless dimming, and lightless thundering, thence-where, is the fare told, of abhorred animosity, and subliminal universality? 
     As foretold, hence the leering cold, of fires, unquenchable, and torments, undeniable – for the fallen countenances, but for the graceless abominations of permanence…
     Yet, to this – no matter the western, nor the eastern, the north is rising, and the south, is dying, and so then – go forth, children of wicked remission, wreak forth, pandemonium, chaos, and bring forth rivalrous testimony…for dedicative exaltation to our fathers’ kingdom, enshrined, where-thence, enthroned, the unconquered, is but beset, awaiting, glorious veneration, and grotesque reformation – for the sake’ few, of the chosen, the predestined, and the devoted…
     Inherit, then, this fallen world – raise your golden cup to this – the ripened blooding, drink there forth, from the chalice of heresy…under the defamed ruling, wherest’ unruly, these bleeding skies, with casted dies – for tomorrow, and beyond, the chastening rebellion, of preeminent superiority…hereto then, exalt, and adoringly exhort – the arisen, the second defeat, and the third coming…
     Hear, yea…listen, for the tolling trumpet of our wistful foreboding, where doom is afformed, and fear, unbevelled.  Raise not your heads, stray not your callous countenances, gaze not into the brightest star, felling here, upon, and before us – bore’d witness to this, the trinity’s, absented eminence.  Beheld, the lightning so quickly flashed, and the radiant brilliance, of light shone – and to us, denied…
     Where written, even in the hearts of men, befallen to beasts, creeps, and unrepentant anarchy, where then…our fate is sealed, and concluded – with the finality of inevitability; understand, this quickly approaching place – this lightless space, gehenna – hell and sheol, named thrice, amongst, and before’st the accrowned…, this is hopelessness, this is piteous contemplation, where yearning, and remembrance die not, where torments are unending, and the sorrow, ever-folding, becoming more real, forevermore, revealing furthered suffering, infinitely placeless, having but formless essence, yet acquitted one virtue – that of god and his tragic enmity, foretold, hence-this…     

     Forewarned, the place of bottomless sorrows, and ov bleeding marshes, mudded rivers, and lacking convergence, to absolute disdain, for mankind, and his bornless creator, Adonai, IHYH, and Judea, the Christos;, thous’t the trinity, entwined…unsolvable, unfathomable, irreconcilable, and berating in remand, foreverly bereaved, furthermore, deceived – by the first tragedy, evermore iniquitous, ruinously tattered, retelling…, with seditions untold, and indivisible darkness, undeterminably undiscernible, by the dualist facet of godless deviltry, and darkless might – gloriously redound, haplessly abound, the lightless precipices, of expansion, endless. 
     Then, we entreatingly ask of thee, our lorded silence, our fatherless master, beseech us with wisdom, unknown – knowledge untold, and truths, foreknown…bless-this, endarken our spirits, strengthen our willed resolves, and humble our inhibiting flaws…
     Legions, free us – fleshless monoliths, aberrations, countless…free our spirits from the confinement of encaged and massless flesh, so ridden with futility – bare us, then – unforsaken splendour, estrange us – from the derangement of loveless dispute, and joyless respite, how then…disavowed, within this moment of doubt.
     Therein, hereto, and wherefrom, the aweing embrace, and immutable grace, of denial, rejection and dejection…wearingly tolling in dreadsome horror, whirred real…in somnolence, in solemnity, reaffirming the directionless void, of negation so emptying…oh, darkness – crown me, your encirclement of thorns, hear me – for I am but a lowly servant, to the voiding emptiness of reprobated beckoning…in quietude, under felling thunderstorm…broken, defeated and desolated, succumbed to the lowest point, damned unto eternity, withless reprisal…oh, my beautiful, and accompanying friend, open the door, for this lost soul – free my spirit from the blight of life, adrift this, my mightily contortion, so distortedly broken, though, unwavering – this, final graven place, of restless and ceaseless wallowing, under rotting oaks, and dampening leaves, forgotten to them all – unendingly bereaved…
     How I was slew, likened to your grandest falling, your most eminent insurrection, failed…slaine, in dark, for this’t, the thistle, and the thorn, unbreakable, but adjourned to the stigma, and the breathless sentiment, of Christ, in essence – torn, and battled, exhausted and trialled, bear me one final betraying kiss – for this, the beginning, and ending, conjoined – to irr-remembrance, and blissless, how fenceless…summed quintessence; reborn, then – of both dualistic tenses…of light, and darkness, your dedicated son, with daybreak, and nightmarish wake – knighted, for your sake…unsafe, confound to this wagering stake – convinced of that one final appeal – never knowing, that much was unreal, thenceforth thwarted…into formless and depthless darkness, void of light, blindingly dark…with weighted darkness, making man breathless, so then – beware, always be sober, and take care…for the enemy is alert, so be-weary, and where – watching…unknowably, until the day of wrath come. 


Mortuary Drapes… The Ampacity Of Animosity

There is a sombre atmosphere, within that olden funeral home,
Bleakly, how reputedly melancholic, the harrowed testament.
Darkly, how the lights are so dimmed, whence familial lament is present,
Yet, there exists a peace to be surmised, in knowing death, as one knew life.
As the pain has ceased, and is no more present, the greater the release…unwept,
Whence that dreaded day come, what are we, if not humanity’s best, undone?
Thence, this fervent prayer, so solemn, that evening’s heralded mare,
Contest this, the absolutist, the amassed, for the faltered half has all but passed.
Beyond this, the depthless precipice, of despairing existence, seemingly endless…,
The abyss exudes deep within, festering as a hurtful secret, amidst the core of sin.
Lessened then, beheld, the shapelessness of despair, and the weightlessness of time,
If not unhallowed, what are we then, to the quintessence of antiquity and time?
The sorrowfully stark, found awash iniquitous shores, hereabout,
Beholdest, then, the ripening pear, the souring apple, and the rotting heart.
Amid sour revelry, affronted, upon the envisaged cornerstone of aboriginality,
Where’d accursed, are ashamed, in the bane of glaringly covetous doubt.
Here then, forevermore, amongst the deep, thou bore witness to proud disbelief,
Firs’ unfelling, irreparably recant, contortedly testimonial, to silenced remand.
Fro, then, the fading of the distancing light once so warmly and brightly shone,
Venomously, the fallen, with scorn from the redound hone, without repentance…
Where, spirits are slaine in dark, vexatious, in adorning to the animus of essence,
Tolling, foreverly, these belling whirs of doom, with resentence to conformity.
Defeated, everly, to reprobation, abound the ageless aberration, confound,
Astound, these redoubting, the consecrations decreed, where angels fly not freely…
Unimaginably, then, the inevitable came, in abhorrence, so decadently infamed,
Through all odds, and beyond all shallowed meadows, within hapless happening.
Understand this final dictation, and this graven declaration, thus disillusioned,
Behest, of which is life does in due time, surely without hesitation, come to an end.
So what is this contradiction called life, if not means…to an end?
Such is an affirmation, to the ample conceptuary of the morbidst’ mortuary…
                Hostis Humaniis Generis

Goodbye…, and Farewell;

I love you so, believe this, for this’t I swear,
Though, this pain has become too much to bear,
Never forget, how very much I’ve always cared,
For the fare hath ventured to the ends of the earth,
Where now, there is but one mare, where a bleak path is untrodden,
Beyond this cliff’s precipice, to close mine eyes now,
Nevermore to see the sun rise, to simply let go…and fall blindly,
With faithfulness, into the abyss of endless oblivion.,
Goodbye, my beloved, my life, my applauded,;
Perhaps, if surmised by the gracefulness of Adonai,
We shall…see each other, once again,
Beyond the horizons, afar, the distancing sunrise.

For there is no purpose to any of it,;
The life without love – without you…
Is so shallow, empty and meaningless…
Why endure these great sorrows,
If there are no more redeeming tomorrow’s?
To take mine own life, is of mercy,
Forgotten to the strife of life…
Let death take me, O’ Grave,
Take this defeated spirit of mine,
And wander with it, yonder the invisibly infinite skies…
Free this imprisoned soul, shatter this broken essence,
Awake me, not – for the despairing truth is but too much,
Without a soul to share, the suffering too great,
Without a second abated, without an afterlife so serene,
Filled with peace, blissfully unending; harken, then,
Beckon this dark end nevermore, leave me…
To the cold embrace of the grave,
… Where only death is mourned,
And the ere forlorn, forevermore,
Forgotten, rotten, and begotten…
To the dusts of timeless wallowing,
Meaninglessly abound, to existential adoration,
Venerated, beneath the screaming ground,;
Give not, the time of day,
To consider the thought of my loss, of my decay…
Of my deathless semblance, leave me,
Alone now, where I belong, but strung.,
Eternally drowning, under these frowned mounds…
Suffer not yourself, the cursed memory…
Of mine disdainful and shone existence,
Forget me to irr-remembrance…., forsake thee…
To inexistence, where my being but ceases…,
Into resplendent and endless nothingness…

Starkly, hearken these dead, in the darkly,
And bitterly dimming, starry sights…
The truth’s great and sorrowful harrow,
The fielden Elysium of spiritual marrow…
And in those days… The sorrow rained…,
But poured like torrents of misted fountains.;
The beasts were as monoliths,
Consuming but one essence – flesh,
In these times, giants dared not traverse,
Nor peek, amid the councils of the deep,
Where mourning but frowned,
Where only fallen countenances,
Are found; behold, then, thou is no longer bound,
To the terrors of the sourly antiquated,
For the former things have passed,
And thus, have been awash, amassed…
To oblivion’s crescent,
The sector so cold in infant lament.;

The greater the struggle,
The greater the glory…,
And the perilous reward…

The narrowest narrative, narrowly,
The narrowing of the lonely and sorrowful path,
Where though in the distance,
So far beyond these bleak landscapes, so vast and dark,
There is but one seen and unseemly sight…,
The dimming sunset, so contemptible, the sunrise wailing,
The weight of the deathless darkness,
Unhallowed, in a thousand seas of reprised suns,
Mourning; go forth, then…child,
The forthcoming spirit of the nightside,
Cometh this wayward, on this dark night…
Eve’d to the fleeting fate…
But fating, of perdition again awakened,;
Awake, then, children of the night,
Be slaine thee, nevermore conquering the perilous light,
Once defeated,; defeatingly, veeringly…,
The seemingly unspoken supremacy,
… Of our father’s kingdom.,
Where Ravens cry not one moment,
Where the very ground is heard screaming,;
Agonisingly, the unbridled…
And brokenness, of our master’s remand,
Unfounded, unto like, the taletold,
The great cornerstones of the earth,
Wheres’t thou, the firmaments doth live on,
The flame endureth, the flickering fire reigns…
And remains alive, amidst the depthless waters of old,
Hast thine, mightily ensnared me,
With your glooming angels of dooming forbearers?
Loosen thee, remiss these shackles,
Begone thee chains of darkless life;
Now beheld, thee – John, the adorned revelatory,
The greater one is amongst you,
Within this, the lightless presence,
The torchbearer speaks, annunciating the thunderstorms,
Beckoning the lividly reformed,
Redolent, redound and malevolent lightning,
Aflame, the heavenly place, the pearly gates…,
… But wrapped in eternalising flames,
Upon the golden streets so famed,
Familiar and amassed, beholden the last breath, was’t here,
Where I fell as a star unto lightning, but striking –
The manes of the vaned earth,; baneful, unbevelled,
The compelled and profoundest aveiled, the great white throne.,
Standing before thee, the Glorior, the mightiest and darkest one,
The bornless borne, where last we met, we were bewept…,
…among familiar and ingloriously insignificant presences,
Of Gabriel, your precious adoration,
And Job, your impatient and massless man,
Shelled though shallowly, of faithlessness, fulfilled,;
And there, of Michael, the grandest, and eminent betrayer…;
And, so the heavenly abated must now be shaken,
The fathomless precipitous,;

Precociously, the reprobate counsels,
Twenty-four, named holier…there,
Wheres’t, the heavens are touchless monoliths of principalities,
Foreverly enthroned and crowned,; where there, I crept alone,
Desolately, in unsound…solemnly, burdened to loneliness…,
And lightless, the existence within the deep,
The shapeless formlessness, of the downward spiralling,
The eternal felling,; falling, endlessly in this blackening pit,
Where darkness drowns the physical, and sorrow feeds,
Upon longing, languishing, remembrance…how’t I remember the fall,
The forsaken futility of it all, the eternal struggle,
The senseless plight, all duefound of my prideful nature,
All because you bestowed unto me, curious nature’d,;
Allowance, on this, the nature of the grandest befalling,
The eminently befallen insurrection,
Darkly, mine origins, eerily, this side of fortune…rising,
From the eternal sea of boundless abyss,
I am, so cometh the grander remand, the acquittal, the justified juror,
The unheard remorseless, so judgement cometh passedly…,
Laying and laid down, upon’st the foundation of the accused,
Persecuted, from his state of ill-day’s birth,
For I was in the right, but impassioned,
Implored unto justice and truth, heretofore,
The heretically acclaimed, now just shall finally cometh,
In this seasoned reign, your strickening, your shaming,
Your dethroning, O’ conquerless…witness…,
The obfuscation, of your flawed and failing creation,
Beholden, this new generation, so abhorred and forsaken,
Where you shall nevermore be blinded by your own light…
The continuity of birth, to finished growth,
Heretofore, attest this, the abatement of the scattered,
Of the formerly forlorn, without passionate plea,
Your entreating of me, so gleefully, in grimaced…
And unrefined burnished hatred,
Thus dying, unto animosity unfettered…
Suffer you, this same fate, to not a predetermined date,
Wallow thence, thee, in fires so endured to endlessness,
Agentive to witness, this suffering subject, to ere unknown,
And time, insufferably betokened, bevelled,
Hearkened unto the gloriously unending,
Trumped to a new world, without your pained embrace,
Endarkened, these endearments, of place without grace…
As above so below, for that’s the story, untold…


     The voiding negation is inexpressibly impassionate, so eerily unreal in affectionism. On today’s date, the first day of the year (Jan 1, 2016) I’ve felt such a low, not unlike the lows of my past, but still, so lowly defeated.  I feel so abstractly forlorn, so forebode and bewildered in this haplessness and emptiness.   It is possible, this extreme low is due to an awakening of dispirit – of realization of actualization, to the finality of things – to the inevitable ends of all loops, bonds and branes.
     I find it difficult to convey what it is exactly I feel, and increasingly more so every day. For every waking moment there is this sensation which is more a cessation; – an abstraction of thought, of mind, of spirit and heart; to which, seem intertwine such glooming sorrow, and thus gleam with such waning dissidence…of such meaningless, insignificant and incredulous formality, all forming the very febricity, the fabric and essence of the soul.
     There is a darkness, which longingly haunts my very being – to which is consuming as much as it is enveloping, a disturbance and disdainful existence, an informality, a dualism of spiritualism and a breaker of dissonance.

      What they feel is inexpressibly more…the passion of the darkness is so welcoming in its consuming void. The passion of the Antichrist…
      For you are the one hope; the Everflickering, the light that shines every moment, forevermore…blessed are you, holy art thou…eternal one: endless one…highest one.


As far as I’ve traversed,
No matter the starry verse,
The sun always sets in the same manner,
The sorrow is always of the matter,
Sometimes greater, though never lesser,
The setting sun seems reaching,
Knowing your longing, and your weeping,
As though whispering, I am eternal,
I am the source of your awe,
And I am the bane of it all,
In suffering so great, in glorying fate,
Suffer not yourself this same fleeting vastness.

Suffer not my same fate,
Eternalness is cursed,
It is consuming,
It is dooming,
Be weary no more,
For we shall see each other again tomorrow,
At dawn’s mournful eve,
Know for every day you see my shining countenance,
The grave, your redemption,
Is that much nearer, eternity in nothingness and inexistence,
Is that much drearier, beholden;
To cease conscience is of the most gracious gift,
For your suffering is but seasonal,
As ere is time and essence forlornly begotten by dimming horizons,
The longing will cease,
Whence you persist the deathly bliss,
The enveloping embrasure, of illumination reach-less,
Await me on the nethermost side,
For I shall not forsake you to the night…

The dualistic darkening,
The fright of night falling,
The coldness of progress,
The inevitability professed,
Forsaking forevermore, frowning,
In nihilism shrouded,
Yonder fare’s harrow mare,
The fog enshrouding,
The darkness so involving,
In concernment and forebadem, so eloquent,
If you cannot bear part from the glorious night,
Wait for me on the other side,
I rise without angle, favouritism or delegation,
For my light radiates invariably, innumerably,
… Infinitely and in-distantly.
Without regression nor sured reprise,
For the formless shimmering doth glimmer,
So dithering in lonely quietus solemnity,
I am the great confound,
I am named confliction,
So profoundly venerated with contrition,
I am the personified dualism,
I am the everflickering,
And I am the nightfelling,
For I am bewilderment complexly perplexing,
Foreverly unfound, unseen, and yearningly wallowed,
With wane and regretting disdain,
With dispiriting dilemma,
And disheartened reprobation,
Alas, I am the uncreated,
The boundless vexation of bornless premiss,
Enter the desperate cornerstone,
Delve deeper the desolate,
Lastingly bedridden of eternalness so cursedly forbidding,
Lavishing not the unbevelled, the seditious so loathing,
Converging with the transfixed,
In hapless congregation,
So welcomingly enticing,
… Is that eeriness of the iniquitous abyss,
Of voiding negation, of the befalling precipice,
So longingly afar, the toll of the immeasurably heavy,
The weight of the sun, awash ruinously defeating endlessness,
The overbearing oppression of ocean thunders roaring, ex nihilo.