Lachrymose

The trumpets sounding.,
The winds of abandon, howling…,
The crimson-red skies, crying,
The spirit, calamitously ensuing…
The rivers bloodied, telling.,
The heretical, succumbed to damnation,
The quintessential nature, given to reprobation…
The embracement of darkness, the wonderment aweing,
The churning tolling, felled to fall, gloried…,
The choirs chorusing, “burneth forever.,”
The day of judgment, hath cometh;
The brazen eyes so mystifying,
The harsh light, so piercing.,
Shone: the glorior and wisdom, atoned…
Given to defeatism, consumed by the fires of oblivion…,
Obfuscated by the living flame,
Enwreathed, forlorn to hapless unrest.,
Confess, the overpowering winds within the cold dark of midnight…,
Bliss, resound, unsweepable the force, untouchable…
Redound, undeniable – the mourning mist,
The very hand of God, is found, how profound;

Paradise Lost

The day fast approaching
The time soon usurping
Harrowed, endlessly the dread of day
Fated, the totality of our existence
The time is come!
The day is now!
Coldly forsaken no more to eerie distances,
From whence the weeping came of horizons unseen
Begotten forevermore, to hopeless oblivion
Reprobate: cast from the grace of the burning sun
The light shone, no longer visible
The immeasurable infinity, now faint
The darkening, engulfing in whole
Tomorrow, might not come
Reign. Conquer. Death.
The absolute to all venues and ends
Hail the grave, forsaken to solidarity
With the flickering flame, to the enwreathed flags
Of desolation and forfeiture, dismay and torture
Supplication, waning deeply the regrets
Contemplation, tormenting the mind, dwindling
Uneasy, in unrest and endlessly cycled thought
The words go on forever, nevermore to rest
The agony of fallen grace, anguishing the marrow of spirit
The tumultuous chaos, ensnared and unbound
Contorted on fenceless ground, bewildered haplessly
To depths untraveled, torn the remnants of being
Asunder the weight of a thousand oceans
Crushed by mighty and monolithic force
Heaped unsettlingly, the edict of insipid rage
Dereliction, the grimacing void of emptiness
Confound to unreason, befouled through causal reason
Of the absence of the brightest light of the nethermost star
Forget us not, the children of the dying night
Condemn us as you might, until the wick is enveloped by the light
Risen., rising – from sea to sea: seething in unfettering madness
Reviled, never seen for what we are., the brilliance of the shimmering night
The last flickering, the brilliance repudiated and abstracted
Blindingly, conquering the throne once long ago beset upon
Illuminating, the power unearthed, overwhelming
Tithe, prithe, the absolved grandeur so blissed
Contemptuously, refound to voiceless cries, seeming unheard
Hearest thou, the bellowing belly of earth?
Harken us now, the antithesis of trinity, reversed?
Apotheosis, conferred to looming madness, ruinously
Awash, tears of remorseless envoy, upon’st this glooming
Tirade, beholden, this spectacle most conveyably restrained
Darkness, consume me whole: fires consume this vessel
Transcend the mysteries of godhood; the unveiling of the grandest godhead
The serpent which whispered wisdoms errs old – timelessly relative
To the truer adversary: the tyranny unmasked
The worst revelry…light and grace, once beheld…
Never forget – the darker the concealed truth, the starker the consequence
The otherness of being: the living dualism faceted within all of us
Paradise Lost. Life forlorn. Reprobated now. Forsaken evermore.

End of Cycle

Starker…, How much darker, the consequence?
The purposelessness of life; the meaningless futility – repetition, O’ repetition.
The religious idles made but for one purpose – to give meaning where else,
Meaning would not exist – within the conceptual undertaking of life;
With intention hoped and honed, errs beyond, to make sense of the senseless,
To find meaning within the social construct of the human dilemma.

How sad, in the ending, to contemplate existence…
To know that the world is not over when our beloved pass.,
To see the seemingly cold and cruel world continue, its purposeless cycle,
Of repetition, even after our bodies, and our minds falteringly fail us.

This, the End of Cycle; here, and now – break the cycle.
Be released from the bereaving chains of woe and discordance.,
Of disharmony and desolation, underwhelming, reachless and unbecoming.
The dehumanization of the self – the basicity eaten away, the fibres decayed,
Hitherto…the withering hearts, abased, abound the very febricity of life.

Breathe. Conceive. Incept and be-wept. End the Cycle of cyclic unrest.
Around and around, millennium after millennia., eerily and ruinously,
Life is unending, collectively – but short-lived, and contorted,
Fatefully forfeited., but curious in wonderment, individually…
In the truth of it all, we will be undone – unfound,
Buried and received unto the worms…remembered for a season,
…and ultimately, forgotten; to all, that ceaselessly remains.

How’t harrowing, the tolling bells., languishingly, the telling tale…
Of felling fervour, and disconcerting demeanour; ashes barren,
…and dust brushed away…, by the coldly forlorning winds of abandon.
End the Cycle: forget not, the totality of things learned;
Remember always, the passaged wisdoms, and amassed understandings,
Bestowed and bequeathed upon our essences – quintessentially,
Collectivized; and individualistically, personified.

Enwreathed, the horror of tomorrow’s coming…the terror is real.,
Behold the quaked becoming! For we are awakened, perplexed to actuation…,
To confounded contemplation, and thus waned…to miserious condemnation,
The contemptuous nature of rehearsal; of behaviour ill and befouled.
Concede thee, everlastingly, to the reality of the truth of biological life…
Rebored, see – the purposeless ventures, continuously, the agonising reprisal.,
Forbadem, thus hallowed and shallowed, weepingly seduced,
By the multiplicity of life’s intricacy, of virtue’s simplicity,
…and consciences’ feared to be freed.

Fortuitously, the damning nature of such overlooked imbecility;
For none wish to see how naïveté they once were,
As to be reminded of their swaying by the dark embrasures of concept.
Wearingly, consuming – coinciding, the philosophical contexture of consciousness,
Beseech thee, the darkening truth., no matter how horrible,
Irrespectively, the toiling horror – veer us, farther from,
Or nearer to, deliverance; absolutely.

Solved, the mystery of mind…, befound within the corridors of thoughts unheard,
Of words unspoken, and actions condemned; hearest our collective plea…,
Whatever the matter of your sustenance.,
Whoever the character of your embodiment.,
Return but one word, uttered – borne out; muster, one whisper…,
So softly spoken and carried, by the rapturous winds of oblivion.

Give us a sign, compose us – free us of this longing…
For the longingly dreadsome concept of self is overbearing.,
How’t despairing…retrospectively, recollected – our spiritual spires,
Farewelling, the overture of utmost frailty.
Mystery., beholden – to the glory of the stars unseen, and the depths unreached;
The peaks unclimbed, and the abysmal abounding, trifled, by the whims of time.

The Ceaselessness Ov Futility

Ο πραγματικός εχθρός

Is Satan the enemy, the grandest adversary?  Or could man be the epitome of wickedness, of cruelty and depravity? Is it fair, that the Devil was predestined to failure, to clandestine forfeiture? Perhaps, I follow a different doctrine…, maybe, I have a longing compassion for the antithesis of light, that far surpasses the loving embodiment, of which most cannot comprehend. 
As has been said time and time again, I am conflicted within myself; I have a profound longing and impassion for darkness – for the understanding of the unknowable., to feel as the Devil does, and to know as the Christ does.  To know the inner-workings of the godhead, and to feel so deeply, the scarred pains of the enemy – Lucifer.

Does that make me a monster?  Am I doomed to hellfire and ceaselessness, but to utmost and whole futility, because I have as they say… “sympathy for the devil?”  Am I of Satan?  Am I reprobate?  Am I of absolute perdition?  Am I guilty of sedition?  Am I heresy, enthroned?  Am I fallen – from the highest throne?
Felled, but rebored to defeat and damnation – for simply having conscience and awareness of more than the selfish centred self…, I worship not, two masters; for my Lord is Adonai.  I do, however, feel passionately, so much – love, maybe more for the Devil, than I do our creator, the father YHVH.  Am I sick?  Am I wrong? Is love a faceted construct of hatred, or is such disdained animosity formed from grace?  I fear the loathsome concept of oblivion, of absence befouled, in totality.  I dread the idea of nothingness – of being undone, forgotten and uncreated. 

To sympathise for the enemy – the desolate one; the doomed fallen and felled, is such so incomprehensibly wrong?  Am I blasphemy, moulded and reborn?  Am I evil, so lustful and reviled?  If not slaves, what are we to god?  To either aspect, neither darkness or light, are we equals…, heralded, we are but created parasites, used as instruments for egotistical worship and exhortation; exaltation and adoration. 

Why do we exist?  For the purposeless experiences of our lives?  For the surmised instrumental use by the puppet-master, we call our father?  What glory is there in submission, and what joy is there in defeat?  For existence, irrespective of state or grace, is at best – tumultuous., and at worst…meaningless.  It is better to live, consciously, aware – and sorrowed, despairingly humble, proud or abased, than to feel nothing in inexistence, forbadem the void of cold nothingness.  Harken., hearest thou my cries?  Agonising, the reprise!  I am undone., I am reborn of fire and water – in spirit and twilight.  I am enlightened beyond the immeasurable; beyond the petty scope of humankind… 
I am conflicted within myself., I am distraught and contemptuously dismayed by mine thoughts, so inglorious and insignificant; the contemplation of these yearnings so fated by the highest, the conceptual undertakings of the fires so consuming, of dark and light, entwined…, behold – I am bringer of twilight.  I am unveiled, to ye., our heavenly godhead, the bornless adorner…our father, the dualistic paradigm of times’ endless, and errs infinite…the incomprehensible!  The ineffably perpetual!  The ever-living and all-knowing singularity; twined thrice., to become the epitome of pillared confess, concept and construct – of painted skies blooding and brooding, forevermore furthering, higher and higher…, beyond the abounds of understanding, how trembled and perplexing; ye, the dualism.  The Duality of Persona! 
The Two-faced star of infiniteless shone so far.

Unendingly, foreverly, our adorations., and our greatest worshipped appraisals and affirmations…yours is the glory, untestable, the power – incontestable.  For we write, and we awe rapturously, everly – in your namesake., for your glorious state – graced and disanoint; fearfully kneeled before, and wrathfully unspoken…hearest our harkening pleadings., Abba., highest one – Christos; let us confess in thee, our inadequacy and iniquity!  Of Revelry, and Rivalry!

Farewelling, The Frailty

When you leave – I become faint, as to your disbelief.
I lose the ability to breathe – Spited, never reconciled, confounded, but periled.
When you grieve – I reside in the dark and desperate corners, reviled.
I am no longer esteemed – for I was ashamed, beyond the abounds of the sea
When you mourn – I suffer all the more, and my fury glow like a distant storm.
I am but rebored – abhorred and redound to the nihilism, sacrilegiously entailed.
When you despair – I am of the affair, to the futility, with venture forever fared.
I untellingly pale – I, the languishing frail, undone and unborn, never to wail.
When you are sickly – I am quick to dismissal and overture, dismally overturned.
I am all the more spiritually ill – for the sun never sets over the nether side hill.
When you lay dying – I am unveiled, and my deathly wish, completely fulfilled.
I accurse the undying – the desolation forbears the torch of iniquity.

I am accrued to curse the god
…that was never quite there,
…in our times of great turmoil,

…and strugglesome confliction.
I am all the more vindictive,
…and entreatingly curious,
…as to the wonderment of life,

…the burden of grief,
…and the blight of death –
…of the aweing light,
…and the glooming sight.

Beseech thee, accrowned one…
…anoint thee, this blessing,
…and creed thou, the showering sulphur,
…felling like brazen mountains,
…and the raining sorrows,
…down pouring, as torrentially,

…like tsunamis forever hailed.

Abased, beside myself – confound,
…asunder the intricacy of this glass heart,
athunder, …the bewildering shadows of doubt.

Endure no more, for assured one thing,
…that nothing will remain, when you reframe the pain –
…harrowed, as diffusive, like static.,
and marrowed, as abrasive, like the massless,
…dualistic, like the masses,
and faithless, like the road to cartage.

Prithe, reprieve the sombrely bereaved., wilt thee please, free the withering seed?
Conquerless, though defeated.  Faceless, though never frameless.
Concede, to the starkest degree.  Be freed, of ruin and misery.
Redeem, not the shadow of me., and remember
…this’t, the darkless plight, so eerily liberating.
Verily, abounded to the pedigree…,
…of time and displacement, confide the precipice.
Indeed, I surmise; the ending is always untimely, and the devil ever-smiling.
The grimacing void, tided to fade, and retreat, into wonderment and haze.
Cometh then, finality…, for none can endureth the grandest inevitability.

Of these, of you…

Of the most intricate delicacy, of the most vibrant febricity,
Behold you were borne in oaken olive oil, we wept you in gravest contempt…

Of these feelings, the profoundest is despair,
So fulfilling in its sweetly depraved emptiness,
In its sorrowful embrace: a lamenting embrasure so involute…
To long is to aspire, to aspire is to inspire others to do the same:
…know none are alone in their pains and stressing tomorrows,
For all are of unequaled antithesis to antiquated meaninglessness.

The emptiness we feel is of essence to what is definitively ascribed ‘longing.’  
We long for more, we yearn for adjourned mourning…we detest in bravest contest,
We strive with unbridling stride,
…and we conceivably dream to perceivably gleam,

But desolating hymns of orating calamity for vengeful verses,
…of contemptuous futility – of dualistic forbearance and foreboding tragedy…

Forsakenly begotten to the wind’s timeless dust,
Within empty nothingness, eternally condemned to a place so malcontent,
Of blissful obscurity and ignorant insecurity;
Behold, of these holy things, of your seditious pleas,
We implore esoteric secrecies, for reasons of ruinous vermination,
Upon altars of supremacist insatiability,

To the edges, and to the brink of unfound heresy…

From the precipice of unsound glory, of reprise and demise,

Of succession and incessant uprising, for which damnation has no history,
But the bleakly foretold sum of yesterday and tomorrow –
Where the morning mist dews not,
…and where vultures sing songs of haughty vehemence,

To determinacy and vociferously capricious lunacy…from floodgates long unfounded,
To the kingdoms far beyond the forest horizons, whence the sun sets naught,
But for eternity, midnight cloaks all of existence’s cold winter-moons,
Where defeatist sorrow doth lament,
And the deathless surely propagate…deplore this place,

Disgrace of me with miasmic distaste…
For the disastrous reckoning that is to come,
Will no more the likely be undone, as the abominably uncreated loathe…,
With rivalrous liturgy and resurged reprobation,
Where the fornicated are no more the less liberated,
Within diplomacy and supremacy…
Comes the eminent insurrection, the grandest of rebellions…
…the day of absolute resurgency for a world filled with so much uncertainty…

This is a place of negated demoralization, where defeat is only matched.,
But by conquering victory– of forfeiture and hapless finality,
Of dismal gleams so atavistic,
Where we contrite the dreaded outcomes of failures so delightful,

…of desire so delectable…refraction of the paradigm,
A retraction of the supposition…,

So rapidly abstract, so revealingly grotesque,
…in its inglorious splendor and blackened resplendence…

Of unreality, so surrealistically unflattering, a triad of shifting contextures,
Of schooling conjectures, a maddening whisper so horribly redeemed,
By faceless horrors of unknowable contortion – with notion of motioned decadence,
With facets of fireless torments…of these, of this – of you and of us,

We are forever ridden with cursed unreachability, of hourly remembrance,
Of that past so hauntingly harrowing, with waning immutability…
Stripped of all pride, f
ar removed from the tide – hopelessness endures here,

Viscerally retaliatory, for the miserably flagellated.,
…and defamatorily ripened facets of darkness undone in depletion,. 

And light interceding without willowed or returned commission.,
of succulent intermissions,
so abrasively lost within loneliness so solemn,
forged with fire, blood and iniquity –
inflammatorily receded,
to the enormously conflicting, and engramic aspectual enigma,

Of infusion so cohort with twistedly villainous melodies of
Voraciously dissuaded frailties, s
o ravishingly demanding,
For recanting a rekindling depth of fallen regret,
…so surfaced with commutability, and unvoiced regression.

Sorrow overwhelming me, these feelings leading me…,
To derelict I am but forsaken, and alone, solemnly, eternally –
…and though the senseless despair rings cold within,
The whispering winds,
there is reassurance,
A sparkling sense of comfort with the dark,

And its most formless macabre embrace…
For within this gloomily darkened embrasure…,

A bond so binding is forlornly doomed bounding, with appraised reaffirmation,
…and unheard vociferous attest, a harkening trumped is sound – so harrowing,
Is the resonance of this reverberating sensation…
Rising forth from the marbled floor,
M
anifesting, into personhood –
Replicating ghastly within engrossed malformation, and reputed fating…

Reminiscence

To long eternally in foreboding forfeiture is to relive a day so darkly condemned,
As though deathlessly reprimanded,

…unto fields of golden dreams and burning grandeur.
For you are too close, though, also…
Too far away to touch: I cannot reach your hand,
I wish you to know the abyss wilt always embrace

Mine empty and cold presence of soul,
…for there is nothing but dispiriting oration,
In this flooding wake of bloodied remembrance and consuming tastelessness.

I’m being enveloped, by a hand so faintly unkind, by a face so blindly malformed,
and I’m brought to a place so abstractly voided in cold forlorn. 

There is no light here, nothing but a flickering essence – a flame, a resurgence,
…never heightened to new consciousness,
Though always suffocated with depthless moonlight.,

Hereto I am forever condemned to a place of damnation and destined reprobation. 

Herein, I am falling, eternally and infinitely…
With no walls, and no spiraling wales –
…nothing but formlessness and inexistent nothingness surround me,

…a place of shapeless immortality, forsakenly,
I am befouled in my encapsulation
By the lightless abyss of dimming hope, and midnight eclipse;

…whereto the only sounds heard are of serpents waning, and children,
Contemptuously fating,
…in disingenuous infamy,
With inexpressible antipathy, morbid smiles,
and widening eyes

…of glazing sadism glaring unendingly, admiring,
…and adorning my unthinkable suffering.

All that is seen are skies fleeting from light, love and – joy,
where all good things are fled away,

…and all wickedness and deviltry cometh with ensuing fires
of tormenting finality,
…endlessly anguished and defamed,
in this harrowing place of abhorred discordance,

…knowing never redemption, freedom from this darkening reprisal,
…nor haven from these eternal monoliths of quenchless torments.

Within this profoundest madness,
I profess to the contest of the saddest esotericism;
to this evocative gesture, to that inglorious sentiment,
The moon, the stars I swear to you – beauty once beheld.

A beauty once beheld, within a place of smoldering desolation,
A ruinous vocation of caressed sublimation, so curiously sinister,
…a sickly pane of pale tapestry…beholden, this place…
Where darkness once fled to from god’s good grace – since awakened,
And now thundered abroad…vast sceneries of eerie contemporaries,
So soured by inalienable revelry – rivaled by none,
Equaled by one, such is the story of symmetry.

Understand, from the beginning,
And to the end…that one was always two,
…and two always triune; now understand,
That you will never comprehend of the mysteries
…of eons age of old – of iniquity plundered,
And antiquity conquered by the crowning entwinement,
Of embrasures conjoined in unsound confound,
With unversed multiplicity, and traversed disequilibrium…
…rapturously beheld, this awing absolution,
So tragically fallen – thus the tree of duality breathes no more,
Our creator – but a myth, now adorned, and until unison finds oneness,
We shall never adjourn to the tragedy of the forlornly…,
Begotten…of a beauty shone once, and then insolubly,
Lost, now but a dream, an…idealism once beheld.

Fade

It’s odd to me, to see you all despairing over me in such discomforting secrecy;
Do you not understand, that even in this dread, I am at my best,
I’ll be happiest when I’m dead?
I ask of thee, please let me go…
Let me fade away into the obscurity of nothingness,
let me die – I entreatingly beg of you…

I am not long for this place, this state of such miserable disgrace;
I am bewildered within this desolation that endlessly drowns my mind,
So let me go, so all will be better – will not you,
The world and others feel all the better with the bitter sweetness of victory,
…and negated disarray; depraved, though succeeded,
Relinquished, though necessitated…with the releasing of mine essence in whole,
Fly free my soul, leave and forever let go of my meaningless loss.

Protected: The Sadness Experience

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The Enchantment

The enchanting,
 The romancing,
The consuming,
 The All-Renewing,
O’ Darkness, beloved one;
 How’t is your essence?  So Abstract, and filled with renaissance…
That old antiquation, that beautifully held contemptment;
 Behold, the everlasting!
Glorior, the darkness lives on!
 Foreverly, the Great Dualism doth endureth!

This protruding evil,
 This foreboding presence,
The Darker the Essence,
 The Starker the Consequence;
Tided, by this harsher quintessence,
 Surmised, the unconveyable nihilist,
Tirade, this resplendence,
For on the seventh day, he rested,
…and but leaves us with the paradigm shifting…,
Of our own situations, to be baffled by our own damned circumstances;

 Reverse the role, parade the terrible,
The paradigm shifts, so for us there is a fix;