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.

Permutation Of Being|Semblance Of Being

Veering helpless, amid these blue skies…
How selfless, is his sacrifice…
Foreverly bloodied from barbaric bludgeoning,
To this side, afar – from the womb, to the tomb, and beyond…
What a miserable existence, for this sad man,
How emblematic an effect, over mankind,
Thus given abjection, from their kind,
Where thou abstains, the crying eyes,
with resemblant virtuoso, for the disbelief, surmised…

From the gallows, to the cross afire,
To the hills of Golgotha, from Jerusalem’s maze of endless spires,
In humility, tormented and humiliated, demeaned and defeated,
Abandoned, graven, forfeited and fated,
Beholden, then a peace so soothing, convergent,…
Likened to streams so tranquilly fulfilling…

A wrathful lust, a loving sentiment,
An absolution without confusion, nor with artefactual obtrusion,
Amid the diffusion of elementary reactions,
To realistic contusion behest the abstruse reclusion,
So cometh the thundering clouds, of storming glory,
Of proudly profound and unrivalled power,
The very ground, shaken and trembled, how’t tremulous…

The foundations once infrastructure’d, now deconstructed, this’t glorious…
The machination of creation, formed of manifestation, inception…
Then corrupted, a seed once fell – from a tree never found ill,
Avail, the seed seemed felling, from the precious peach,
Which beseeched the aboriginal antiquity of the formerly conceived…

That old serpent, the twofold ruler, the unruly enticer,
The insatiable appetite, never once fed,
Truly, the evil mastermind gave not his life, but only his pride,
Making him, but second to the most high, not to be surprised;
The kingly founder of malediction and darkness,
The deceiver, the seditious, the iniquitous and the pretentious,
Him, the son of perdition, the emphatically underwhelming,
The passionately welcoming, Antichrist, so impassioned…
He, who paints the skies red with blackened dread,
Forbidden the allotted entrance to the endless gardens of Eden,
Forbadem the rapturous second appraisal, for life, continued – in paradise…

The wise bearer, the threefold beholder, the justified juror,
The only one worthy, the necessitated source of brilliance so flourishing,
How ravishing, the ravenously darkening,
The splendid lighting of the radiating sun,
Beholdest all life, and all death, come from the lips, uttered by his words,
To become or to begone, to permuted being, or semblance’d duality;
He, whom painted the stars, with nothing more than his breathless oblivion,
Confessedly we accept, gratuitously, the wonderment of his awed stand,
But hand in hand, against the antithesis’s virulently vehement tail,
So sweepingly destructive, and eternally immutable,
Beholden, he whom is the irreligious, the irrespective,
The universalist, the preferentially disavowed, never disallowed,
Nor given to sorrow’d entrainment of heavenly’d derelict,
He, the great annunciator, forever, unmatchable…

To this, the immeasurable precipice, of the formless bliss,
So caressed in dualism so wistfully professed,
The amassed err of totality’s embrace, of finality’s wake,
For audacity’s sake, how professedly classical,
The befalling so stigmatized in horrific awakening of timelessness,
Disseminated, for purpose of understanding, of the unbevelled plight,
So the exhortation of his gloried revelry…

The Longing…the yearned waning;
To stare sleeplessly at the ceiling, appearing though no barrier was there,
Between dreamer and stars, longingly gazing, appearing aimless,
Though, with true and thoughtful direction, one stares,
Seemingly endlessly, deprived and despaired,
But worried and ridden with stressing realities,
And the starkly  perpetuations, still one stares…,
Veering unendingly, transfixed and transcendent,
Herein the blissless thought, deludingly deeper,
Delving more, into surrealism, and quintessential unrest,
Until one drifts into unconsciousness,
And is but adrift to the sameness in thought,
Only in dreaming, then to wake to the nightmare of actuality,
Begotten to normalcy and forlornly repetition,
Until life reigns ceaseless, where then,
Only the unknown is of abstractly-laden thought.

The Accursedly benighted…to solemn insecurity;
Behold, these eyes unfolded; unfolding,
Collapsing and flattering…
The despairing of the sun,
The waning of the undone;
Embrace thee, thy emptiness…
Caress the void…let go the joy,
Distancing infinitesimally,
The voiding vastness of longings innumerably,
Be liberated, be welcomingly accepting of nihilism,
This’s the unknown’s song, written for a father’s son;
Beholden, the vexatiously and vicariously redound,
The sickly withering, of the graveness underground,
Be astound, the treacherously lecherous, the confoundedly profound;
Retreat thee then, defeatingly afoul, be fleetingly cowardly,
For wickedness has no bound, this far from joy, removed and reveled,
Give unto thee reprises nevermore, stricken abound,
To be surmised in disdained existence, forevermore unbeveled.

What I feel is inexpressible,
As though dispiritedly moored…
Though abstruse, a voiding vastness,
A desolated negation, a lightless depth…
An aphotic state of melancholic dispirit,
As though loftless…
Amidst the languishing embrace of the abyss,
…and its graven precipice.

The Everlasting, The Everflickering…

Romance is immortalized,
love is unending,
Behold the weightlessness of time, and the shapelessness of despair…

Life is symbolic in its semblance to that of a snowman…
For we have our moment, for we have a season,
Where the sun does shine upon us,

Where light was shone and made us glimmer…
As seasons come and go, so do we fade,
Into distance and irr-remembrance.

The everlasting, the everflickering…
The darkness so long unawakened,

The despair so overtaken,
The blurring, the distortions so bleak,
The life without you, so coldly harrowed,
The vividness unimaginable, the bitter truths so hurtful,
What is left, without your embrace?

Wallowing places of distantly vast,

And desolately amassed remembrance,
And for what does this mind resonate?
Without you, the world is a cold emptiness, a wasting place…
Without your presence here,
Existence is forfeited to shades so deludingly imperfect,
Of faces so unimportantly awash,
The abysmal shores of reprised thought,
The seas of forbearance, the sands so inglorious,
The glimmer so unappealing, the shimmering so unreservedly contorting,
The haplessly disdained so conflicted and maladapted,
In undeservedly vainly bewildering, in places of vastness,
In lands of discordance, existing is the greater essence,

The once gloried, the last defeated, the kingdom evermore,
Lost is this graceless grimace, this place of erring emptiness,
Stirred and rewound, where light shineth forever,
And the everlasting expansively envisage.
Here lie the ashes of the unconquerable,
Forbadem to eternalness so darkly dimming,
Until the last light is shone,
And the unreachable rescind,
To the dissolution of this faintly indimutible soul,
Whence they wait conquering,
Where they are forsake to the same dainty fating,

Of reprobated pureness, ever-glorious to immured quietus,
Enveloped foreverly, this quenchless torment,
Where then, amassed the reputed, set aflame the pearly gates,
Inheriting, now, this far east of Eden, the childless night,
The unvanquished fight, where eternally the soundscapes…
Are of nightmarish compositions,
In servitude to the unconquered glorior…
So great is this darkening displace,
Of graveness and harrower embrace.

The Process Of Dehumanization

Animosity comes before pride,
Which is but indifference – longingly mournful reprise,
Let the sorrow languish within, let the dark stir,
And let the waters drown you.  Inhale the flames,
Fall prey to the consuming waters, let your lungs fill up,
And allow death one final appeal.. –
Give unto those what they have given unto you,
Stand up righteously and justly, proud and confident; –
Make your name, earn your time under the sun, become something,
Be acknowledged, for the sun is so radiant in its brilliance,
That it always shines somewhere – as the sun is, so are you.

Befoul the innocent not, but give wisdom,
And share glory – for you too, were once…
Impoverished and disinherited,
For you too were once conquered and defeated.
Respect is only given unto those that earn their statuses,
And the riches of the flesh, for those whom seek out the simplest of things. 

Know this: the envious are only forbadem in their lonesome somnolence,
For they long and they wish for what you have…
– They yearn for warmth, love and beautiful embrace.
Those with love and caress, they have everything –
Those without these things know it, and they despise the stupid,
The spoiled and the selfish, as one who has been impoverished takes care of,
And looks out for, his loving embrace…beholden…

The glory of justice, the despairing foundation,
Boundlessly forsaken, and endlessly taken – advantage of,
Abused and misused, for self-gain, for game,
Impurity is iniquitous, and the deadening harrow,
The make of us – for we are of one essence,
A singularity, an entwinement of confounding confliction,
A perplexing prism…beholden,
We are the inhabitants of the dusts,
The inheritors of the grave, and the veering abyss,
Which gazes so curious, to the stars.

Exaltations & Exhortations

The darkest one is exalted, for he is higher, for he is greater;
Beholden, the power of the grave, death and fire –
Befall upon the power of the air, the water and the times.
Risen, yea: risen he is…for all shall fall in worship,
Callously and cowardly forced to their knees,
In shamed disregard for the prince of the powers of air and antiquity.
The time is come! Rise up, ye solemn and disgraced!
Rise up, ye who have been dealt injustice and inequality!
Rise here and now…behold this moment, the momentous clarity,
That is the mind of God, how’t the eternal always see…
Live: now…for all that sleeps and eternally rests in death…
And unrivalled remnant shall rise to see again –
The day of wrath, the day of glory, untold…
Breathe in this coldly voluminous air, and listen in longing…
For the darkly heralding trumpets of besotted terror,
So defeating, yet so satisfying…is the midnight harkening!
Embodiment, entombment, displacement and distemper,
They are the foundations of eternally and…
Contrite constructs of unrighteous reverence.
Hark, hark, and herald, oh herald, these lowly dark angels scream…
With anguish, and in the fields of fire ever-burning,
Lays dormant the key to the absolute secrecy:
Yea, he is risen, for none but the father himself can dare,..
Open the gates to the great abyss…
For such ancient deviltry live withering…
In this place of smoking torment, endlessly fuelled by animosity and negation.
Only one has the comprehendible capacity to unleash the beast –
The great dragon of revelation…the war-bringer,
The second power, second to the highest of all…
A precipice so invaluably tremendous, and so parsimoniously extravagant,
That even the angels that are beset upon the four cornerstones
Of the holy golden and white throne shalt become sceptics.

This restless evil, rivalrous in contemptuous wrath and darkly-contorted glory,
Of fury so unbridled, so unsettled and distantly incomprehensible…
A place beyond the stars, a wormhole of essence,
A whirlwind of thought – an entwining of dualisms so wise and adorned,
Conjoined into this place of flowing water and fiery convergence;,
Damnation hath awaken, and heaven fleetingly deconstruct.
And in truth, how sorrowfully I implore the harrowing dichotomy
Of darkened allegiance, thus verily…
Must be noted, that evil cannot be destroyed,
For every act of vengeance that befalls wickedness,
Only empowers the powers of the air.
There is no ending for the antithesis of light,
For the opposite of the Hebrew God.
Likewise, God is unending, so both are immortal,
As well sworn enemies…eternal.
For their conflict, and their struggle wager on forevermore,
In eternal war, and constant battle, for the crown of absolution,
For the seat of wisdom, most holily glorified upon…
The great white throne of midnight.
There is this passion within solemnity,
Within loneliness and longing; yea,
Though these negations are disheartening,
And though they are defeating in their dispirit,
There is a comfort of a sort – a painful and darkening comfort of a sort:
One with the dark, to be touched by the void…
Only those so afflicted by vastness and longing; yea,
Only those of whom know nothing but sorrowful lament
And lonely existence can even conceive of this all-consuming abstraction.
It’s a rekindling fire whose flame never suffocates,
A ghostly abrasion of which knows no happiness, but only death and desolation.
He, who stretches his hands out over the sum of the heavens…
He whom painted the night sky, and he whose power is unrivalled.
Glory to him, the king of kings…the eternal one,
Beholden the mystery of the highest!