How foreboding, it is on this eerily dimming eve,
So darkly, the longingly dreary, beholdest, the unspoken supremacy…
Yea, the gates are so impurely pearly, though never witnessed,
See this, the place, so drearily empty and miserably weary.
How crushingly oppressive, is the great weight of the void,
Of this shapeless emptiness, endearingly full of forlorn dissidence;
Hearken, the despaired reality, for the truthilde…immortality,
Heralding, evermore the presence felt, though belled in embrace of precipice.
Where then, only time will live to tell, of perplexing conviction,
Utter-est, the distancing, and the ever-reaching, so innocent a respell,
Upon this broodingly, bleakest eve, this resplendence, filled with such decadence,
Resurgent unto reprieve, the mournfully bewildering remnants, of such retreats.
Of shores long agonized, how ruinously awash, overbearingly, they are now lost,
The formlessness of bornless meaninglessness, for this is the sickly vilest of remiss,
Here, amidst a sparking fireside, where the fires attest, this far from the abyss,
Of the light’s greatness, so ingloriously redound, but revelling, abound this scorn.
Afound this dank ground, where we only reminisce, to kiss upon sappy lips, this…
Haplessly bound atop the welled, worsening the blessedly perilled, without shifting,
Accursedly, in earnest pleading, buried deep, hopelessly underground, ever seen,
Amidst the misting gales, amassed, surreal, with gaping purulence, so iniquitous.
The failingly, profound; caressing the void, how comforting, is this grave darkening,
Hark, this beautifully blissless fading, amassed upon golden walls shone, cascading,
Distorted and sightless, heed those words, the immutable, and amiably fond truth,
This far, amicable, to the pinnacle of the regressed, and dastardly cynical, lastly.
As to this, a precipice of oblivion confound, here lay the graveness and uncrowned,
The sowing roots of wickedness adorned, trembling this wistfully saddened solace,
Of his kingly, antithesis, but yearned, for memory, past and future told, suppliant,
Where so faring, compellingly, the unblessed so daringly dismissed, of sorrowfully barren.
Afar, the beheld vastness so entreatingly misshapen, a faltered and dooming telling,
The gleaming nightside, the embers subside, wasting away at the ashes of the sun,
How’t, infinitely in-distantly, are those amber splendours, reviled distinctively,
Thus far undone, gleamed the envisage nevermore, to be embarked or glorified, now.
Adrift, somnolence, be but gifted in wallowing and decay, with loathing astricken,
Whilst life forgotten, now deathless, but left smouldering in deviltrous disarray,
The colourless harrow so darkly stark, for there is no hell like this, profitless,
Repudiated, is this side of the tided nihilist, cometh forth, the superbly renowned.
Thus depleted, the reputed remnants contest of those painted on blank canvases,
Long ago stricken, to desolated landscapes, far away, behest, of the antipathetic,
As are the misanthropically flagellate, impetuously given to this, a massless fain,
Of graven remembrance; so is the sanded essence, the summit, forborne manifest.
The light is unreachable, the darkness inescapable, and hope inexistent, slumbered,
Comforts long entroped, vanquished and flooded, here, now, enthroned, amid this,
Befallen to the quieter aspect, of wallowed screams deceivingly abdicate to revelry,
Cowardice, that lecherous fleeting commendably, held they the shaming ceremony.
Though, cruelly and aimlessly, the blind shall never again see the bleakest of reality,
Welcome to this place; beholden, the grave’s darkening embrace, how maddening,
Forsaken, fallen to reprobation, how defeating, the dereliction of weeping evermore,
To such disuse, of revocation, suffered this abandonment; this far – from paradise.
Now doomed, to massed and graceless symphony, bindingly withheld to tragedy,
To this everlasting, and ruling disrepair, given this far away, arisen no such reform,
For solemnly eternal, is the grimacing void, so lone confessedly, befaulted by pride,
Forsakenly, bound to the precipice of the dark endless, where prayer long ago died.
All but sadly indebted, to eternities of powers unrivalled, thus’t conquered aground,
In summed quintessence, fearful of the ever-flickering, foreverly, doomed, falling,
Afire, regretting the solace of this damned place, sloughing ye days so suffered,
Contemptuously, threadlessly woven, breathlessly unspoken, ruinously, and,
Unendingly…the darkness entombing, will thou, with sincerity, wilt thee?
There is none greater, there is none higher, beseech me this moment under,
Your glorious uplift, infinitely reaching are your compassionate hands,
So convincingly edifying, your vocational commands, embrace me your…
Holiest presence, for one gleeful gaze upon your countenance,
Will sustain thine essence, forevermore… even,
Blinded by the absence of your unreachable light.
Be thee hapless no more, let loose, go freed,
From his overbearing, erase his image,
But from the fruitless tree, denoted,
Where mourning is bliss, forevermore drowning,
Bewilderingly, in the bottomless abyss,
Be lustfully consumed by the fires, inextinguishable,
For this is home to the hopeless spires, duality, treacherously;
Endarkened, faithlessness in graceless’d perdition,
Wrought in spite of the serpent, asunder,
From errs of timelessness, and therefore, we insist, how’t now,
In this, we confess, these fragments are begotten and unheard, nevermore to desist.
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