Emptiness

The Echoing Dread…
Resonating…, within this prison, aloof mine head;
Hereto, farther they stray away from mine reach…
Fore-this, the painful bereavement, of the reaching estrangement;

Beheld, did I, the last remnant of the falling sky…and thought impossible, the inescapable form which confound our meddling spirits, kindles…stringing further thataway…and I envisaged the sight so horrific, palest to mine eyes, and sobbing countenance, this sight so extreme – a sight so surreal…and on that day, that hauntingly dark, and harrowest day, the starkest edacity occurred…

Bewept, the sorrow raining down, torrential, the waves tided twine heartache; the despairing truth, the bleakest realism, actualized, never beautified, but absolute…the heavens fell, beholden, this’t I did see., and with vague recollection, I still so abstractly see – the agonising reprisal, unrepentant, merciless, and lightless.

Behold, I saw the twinkling antiquity fall, felled like the great north star – the shining one, desolated and brought down, lowly…only to be let down, imminence, tastelessly the vultures preyed; decadence…eminence, wrought forth, uprooted, in justified indignation, time morrow’d nevermore, left to wallow, sorrow’d, as before, the darkless borrow – the esteemed and kingly, the upright and highly-statured, like oceanic waves, the kings came crashing down…,

Where are thou heavens now, so said the flickering light incandescent in that darkness, of that darkest night, so spoke He, the second glory, as I recall…, the kingdom fallen, enwreathed in flames, enshrouded in brimstone and sulphurous smoke, the imprudence felt, the abhorred faces so deformed in mangled churning, but burning this instant, tarnished – no longer bestowed the first glory’s endowed brilliance, of immortality, infinity and perfection.

  So then, came the throne, riding the lightning streaking across the falling heavens, the cosmos colliding, the fervent essence – the atmosphere so quaint, quickened to faint, gored to such fated, and unchallengeable, but unimaginable hate: and so, the throne roared of thunder, foreverly falling, though instantaneous, to see the radiance, so brilliantly shone – but one last time., before the ending, cometh undone;

How’t, terrible the sight, a single sobbing tear, falling from his precious countenance, his face unseen, his glory tearlessly daunted, below the burning oblivion, hitherto the smoky abyss, blissless, that olden place of graven torment., in that moment, in the second ones’ great arrogance, came a grandest befalling, wheres’t hindered we all were, forced to our knees, shamefully brought to the marbled floor…trying as we might, our wills be not enough to lift our shallowly-fouled heads…,

Beit the inescapable light penetrated, but protruded our very souls – venerating our treacherous cores’ – ‘til last, we were loosed, but freed, for but a moment, a briefest season – under the mourning sun, the first begot the second, and thusly conjoined this conjectured immeasurability, the infiniteless beauty; yea, so shaken by the blight of that ever-cursed light, of the highest one, conquering the fallen, of us…reigning supremely, forevermore, eternally.

  Knowing this doom, wistfully unattainable, the unreachable salvation, the slipping grasp – of chancing cancellation…reprobated, condemned and but damned, to that place named Gehenna, that place of tormenting relentlessness, our final resting place; bewildered, and shone but none, voided to the absolutist negation, of the voiding abyss – forever lightless, how reachless…and hopeless the lost concept of hope, and mentioning of faith…,

The damnation eternalising, the circumstance agonising! There is no leaving this place, for we all belong here, in our disgrace – fallen this far from grace., forever subject to the wallowing of this abandoned and hapless emptiness, faithlessly forlorn to the unattainable sight of his personified grace,.

Where hellfire and nothingness embrace thee everly, and eternally, hopeless the battered reality, so darkly reminiscent of our crimes so atrocious, and our deeds so voraciously contemptuous with cruelty-begotten evil., borne from light, felled to darkness. 

We belong here, inescapably, forevermore, until His word comes to pass, and our moored are at last, allotted death, through holiest mercy, gifted death, narrowing, the escaping semblance of light, bequeathed this night, nothingness, wedded, with lasting breath, the torment unenduring, lest his mercy cometh again to us, as appealed in courtside dogma, a peace adjourned…

Beholden, stricken by painful remembrance, of unconveyable reminiscence, that face, but so distanced…the day fast approaching, the ending nearing, and the felt reality of damnation, narrowing…

Timeless passion, forgotten, the recollection – hopeless the struggle, futile the rubble of glory; brought down to defeatism, through venture of this desolate landscape, wheres’t deathless conceded to restlessness, such bore the endless prism…

What, and where to now?  To what ends, and by what means, shall the foretold come? 

The confliction, inner-exerting, the effortless surrendering, to dualistic facets, so awry in contorted trouble…the powers clash in glorious battle, only to be broken by oneself, for immortality holds but one curse – the longingly dreadsome unknown.

A war fought for eons passed, an eternity, with battles bled dry, where-from, no voice was left to cry; so beit, the powers live, and breathe the flames of absolute distrainment, through the glossy nostrils, fuelled by hatred, unwanted. 

Afire, the surrendered eternity’s struggled nature, never abound the precipice, seeming never found, the edgeless horizons, upon’st the directionless – veering helpless, outwardly, expanded, evermore…to time’s great place of death-found mourn., classically, the ecstasy of tasteless fruits…,

From this forbidden root, befouled was our kind, for prideful nature, and arrogance embedded entwined, among the deceived mind, where then only confusion and deceptive tongue live to tell – of tales lost, to dark and light, twilight’s farewell…

Discernment knows not the actuated path, that lead not to condemnation and death, but life and blissed inheritance, for which star shines most profoundly, for which is seen, all-so brightly?

One of infinity is the god theory, but which star is unbecoming the semblance of remnant, how bleakly foretelling, the happed farewelling, so terribly welcoming, the abyss’s gaze, with arms wide open, how compelling…

The Struggled Powers: That Flickering Flame

The writhing hatred, so resonated within my fibres, within my very essence – of soul,
The waning of the darkness, beckoning…to come home, to submit the bereaved spirit,
The sorrow, overwhelmingly consuming, quintessentially, the anguishing revelry…
The whispering winds, these foreboding voices…telling me to kill, chanting, repetitively…
“Hostis Humaniis Generis,” this disdained scorn for the enemies of god, and as we, the legionnaire, as thou, one – amidst the fiery flames of blissful oblivion…, we, are legion;

Herenowto, the precipice of endless eminence, behold, the mystery eternal – yea, beholden, that ancient abstraction, that antiquated infraction, he, they – thou, three in one, tritely, sowed unto discordance, and abhorrence, from here to eternity’s end, the fire will self-sustain, the flickering shall not be so easily overcome by the dreadsome end.  
It shall not be abstained…, the cycle, the struggle, ov life and ov death – enshrouded in these eternalising flames, of rebellion, repented to shallow obscurity…for the flickering was once, and is once – the beginning, and the ending…, the fires, errorless, everlastingly, obfuscating the tides of escaping air, helplessly, abound to estranged grounding, how’t, the marring is everly-frowned, venerating, poignantly, abject to formless voiding, reviled to depthless felling, contempt, by disjunctive albescent, wrathfully forced to judgment,

Before the greatest white throne, redound to the bornless idea, honed to the caressing quietus, unsoundly riotous, disavowed, uncrowned, before the slaine lamb, of the highest remand, upon this cliff, so profoundly dimensionless, without essence or precipice…,
Whereto now, the animus musters urgently onwards, towards the bannered halls of glory, confound; tither to, the Glorior, amidst the acclaimed place – of heavenly embrace, of sovereign enthronement, of unwoven atonement, hither then, justified, by absolutist appeal, concordant to the enatic will, of the highest one, ordained, peerlessly, endlessly, contrite the consequence, of bethroned malcontent…,

Deemed foundry to the one quintessential amend, of the fires, ever-burning, attested, infringed…where the torments are ceaseless, and the thirst, quenchless – the mount’ of olives, sanctified, desecrated, consumed by the dusts of time, and resplendence…how’t,
The forlorner presence, of a power far realer, reaching further, reachless, this tided repeal…for there is none higher, for there is none greater, for his is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, foreverly, eternally, endlessly, and evermore, amen – to the throne of fiery fluorescence, pearly, aflame whiten marbles, of taintless availing, fell reeling, this fallen halo, of broken wings, and hapless repugnance…,

Reasonless, pointless – the venture, forfeited, and futile, artlessly, speechless, the unheard terror, the unspeakable grimness, dimmingly confined to brooding bleakness, denied, the gift, so innumerably blessed, but one acquainted kiss, before mine appointment is drawn nearer, to the midnight, and lightless abyss…, lost, aloft the loftless hopelessness of the most despairingly wistful, and disheartening entanglement, arranged, and wed – to the fireless darkness, enveloped, by countless efflorescence,
Orated to embracement, by the emptiness, ruinously awash, the longingly-bewept haplessness, of the grandest condemnation, revelled, but found to the finality of reprobation, and wasting desolations, coined the darker side of fortune, abased to the nihilist, conflicted, spiritually, vilesome, amid the oracles, deranged, afamed these pessimists…, enshrined, to be refound, upon’st the resounded golden embrasure, emblazoned the etches, reformed, the crevices, uncouth, by times cruel hands – sated by the sands of timelessness, fated, to an eternity of lacking recollection,

Of unembraced, and boundless, the pained remembrance…only doomed to be forgotten, to the monoliths and giants of time’s coldly harrowing touch, of the glimpse unforeseen, again…never to be received, unto the ends of the expansionless…, affronted, the infancy of conception, romanticized by wonderment, and wandering, rivers, homelessly dried, found to the bane, the endlessly reaching flames, subsequently subjugated at the formed tops and tips, of the fiery precipices,
Stabbed, upon the merciless fronts – of furious winds, of illuminating pits…where then, the crisp precipices of the fiery flames, of eternalising gloom, are but beset – to the foot, and the hoof…, subordinate, the antithesis, the antithetical king, of glory unknown, is – to the emblematic, the crowned, and the unfound, harrower ghost of paled damnation, the master deception, the first inception, and the last perfection – even he, the greater of kings, is enigmatically broken, and defeated…

Subject to the divinest judgments, so fiercely afire, afar, the burning oceans, vastly, the shored abounds, amassed, the preeminence, endingly, the tail, breathing sulphur, nevermore, to be availed, one fleeting moment of freedom from this tormenting separation, so abhorrently disturbed, and passionately, implored – faintness, unto the crimson skies, where the kingdom once was, before it died…,
Farewell, bid thee gone, chains of life, how harrowed, the unknown future, of destination, is to be…, where finally, freedom exists, as life was never meant to be…how in death, our spirits, quintessentially, are truly freed, conscious, and awakened, the resemblance of their dualistic fating, and gleaming personification., hapless, for we live once – and when death doth come, as it surely shall, flee not – but be compelled to undertake the immutably unspoken wake…

Invoke thee, freedom, discordantly reviled enmity, how harrower, and bleaker, the facets without you – and greater, and brighter, the life with thee…Glorior, Adonai, accept thee, refine me, endarkenly consume me, in fibre, and amnesty – relinquish this ached and antiquated soul, unshackle thee, from the confines of this fouled flesh, unrested, until reckoning cometh, nextly…your countenance shone gloriously upon thee, defeatingly slaine, in your subservice, in your gleeful entreaty…,
Reunite us, onto death – lose us, these memories not, for love conquers all – and your battled conquering over the old serpent, and abstract spirit, evidences this, the compelling power, that is love – reigning, endlessly, over animosity, loathing and all-consuming hatred.

Gabriel’s Account of the Grandest Befalling:
The defeating, so profound, in its’ desolated fleeting…
The fall, the great felling, forsakenly reviled, to predestined hell.
So alluring, is that tale so dark, of the eminent insurrection, of the grandest betrayal, how stark,
So consuming, the conceivability of this gesture, so glooming, the sentimentality of these measureless parts,
The vilesome nature, of a brooding enmity, so endemically harsh, of intricacies and frailty, harked,
The inanimately, the absurdity so blatantly trodden, the formality, so ravishingly luminous, how quaint, the antithetical account,

II

Embark,
Profound, is this overbearing sense of loss, redound, this despairingly haunted emptiness, confound, the longingly lonesome yearning, how conflicted, the overburdened weight of a thousand, thousand crucifixes…
Perplexing, the notion, far-stretching, the embrasure seems open, far-reaching, the precipice, never to receive, the amassed enrichment,
Entrenchment,
The consequential fault of us all – of mortality, of forfeiture and dismay, conveyed, henceforth the disdain, dissident, the splendour of the repellent…, gored and assured, of that failing contemplation, to the rivalry so indwelling, the powers, so unwelcoming,
Disingenuously,
The encroachment seems ever sought, without plot, plighted this inconceivability, so haughty,
Endearingly,
The wretched desolation, so failingly dissolutive, how pleasing, the reaping of this grandeur, so engrossingly entreated,
Tolling,
The telling, so underwhelming, compelling, the nature of betrayal, so toiling, how appalling, the state, so bleakly unsettling,
Confessedly, the recipe for destruction requires but one drink, necessitated, the heretical scorn of man, the destructive path, woven upon mishap,
Maddeningly,
The craftily cunning waters of deep, stunningly, the abysmal conjecture, confided within sleep,
The saddening portrait never availed, or unveiled, to reprising light, however darkened,
Tragedy, the ornamentally darkening, darkly, the convergences seem run sands, sinking,
Haplessly,
The attitudinal displacement – of mind and body, quintessential to the spark of life and soul, how caressingly evoken, to quietude in somnolence, so carelessly bound to the lethargic sound of the resound,
Solemnly,
Encircled, the shadowed prism, so fractured, and so richly, the sweetness of the olden depravity, how’t unhappily, the grimacing face of void, obliviously, the raptured empirically, how fearfully, and wonderfully ablaze, the waned, acclimated,
Pained, the treacherously lecherous adversity, but acclaimed, the enflamed sentience, frayed, the pertinence so glamorously, morosely unkempt, unkindly, the namelessly touchless, expressively, the waking horror, repressed, the masquerade, so blessedly depressed,
Amassed,
Surmised to reason, entitled to formless treason, how’t confessedly…beyond the frail nature of the beast, emblazoned to the surrealism, of this encroaching reality.

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?

 

The Insatiable Despair|The Thirsting Darkness

To feel this empty: to wane these struggles…
To hate this deeply; to detest goodness, and loathe life;
What is wrong with me?
What is happening to me?
I’m spiraling out of control: I’m losing to myself more and more.
The ending of all things is nearer,
And the purposed message all the clearer…

There is no love within me;
Mine essence is cold and true;
So, I pursue the destruction of man…
And hold iniquitous wrath, without dispute…
I hate the world;
I despise the flesh;
There is found innocence only within deathless unrest:
The children sleep quietly; the mind uneasy.,
The sentience profoundly affront the heavenly…

Oh, Dearing winds of abandon…,
I harken thy screams, how’t compelling…
The seventy-two lesser ones,
Refound with all wiser thoughts…,
Debarring, the sightless sense of tomorrow,
Damning, these mournful tides of everting sorrow…
This miserable existence, so fulling, the futility,
Happiness, is but a plague, and love but a disease…,
Optimism: a divisive delusion, and pursuit, less than a dream,
Life is but a blighted cesspool of…despairingly endless agony.

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 Life without You

Oh, Sweet suffering; you’ve embraced me, and so, I shall embrace you…until the gory end of things…hold me tight, and never let me go, for we’re soulmates, we’re destined for one another…for you are my only friend, and I, your only amend; together, we shall be unstoppable — together, we will remain conquerless…without form, without colour, and to this, reclusive remiss, conjoint to elusive collusion, amiss…

My faith, though unwavering, belongs only to the darkness, and my soul, though waning, remains yours, unto the ends of time…our loving caress is more, our unholy entanglement is beyond the fields of mourn…, and so, I bid you farewell and goodbye not, for our adventure is still yet young, and our mission, undone.

Because the light of god is unfulfilling, I accepted this dark fate, on that effusive night…and though, so I am now hallow, the embarking journey to come, is well worth my life and some…for we were always meant to be — forever, boundless and free, to wander, and to wonder, in errs times long ago, and eons to untellingly entail…in this pursuance, in that absence, there is but one quintessential light — borne, again, of flickering and eerie night.

Though, our story is legendary in its sorrowful tale, the depicted encounter still disparages thine vessel in whole…for God predestined us to a greater call, to be beckoned by the son of perdition, to take them all…, 

Henceforth, this bleak, and grimacing tale — of lovers, and of friends, fulfilling prophecies,  for a greater embarkment., and to a fitting end…for our inception begat deception, and great and untold suffering, for all whom oppose…if together, we always remain, then forever, our god will reign…for our purpose is yet unfulfilled, though our existence, meaningfully foretold.

In great and treacherous stretches, the heavens seep out, and seem reach open — the embrasure visible, the path chosen…and in these despairing reviles, our instinct must yet remain unbridled…for you and I are essential to the forbidden lessons of cruelty, and heresy parabled;  

For the iniquitous and seditious tree remains unopened, and our downtrodden path, unwoven…, through the threads of time, we shall bear witness to a great many things, demised forfeiture, and dismal overture, need become unravelled, and our spirits, how antiquated, unrivalled…our destination is clear, our venue spoken for, and our minds, imprisoned more, to this — the everlasting, the blissless abyss… 

For we are doomed to inherit that reprobated and hideous crater, so graven, that place Sheol, named the place of mourning…, and though our pain is real, and unending, we shall take pleasure in knowing we served our part to a greater purpose, unfettered…destined., from conception to irredemption, unrelenting, unfaltering, unwavering and hindering, this bittersweet moment, in quietus solace, where whence we bore, we shall rebore…

Reborn, reformed…, to suffer a thousand crucifixions, to take on a great many deaths, for the saken purpose, of cavalry, and his will as though living, voiceless, in appeal, and remorseless, in wiser detail: rescind, amid the deepest depths of ascension, rekindling to the felling fires of assured oblivion.

So, I ask of thee, as we are tasked to be…never let go., how I plead you never leave me, through anguished horror, and disheartened longing, let you and I, suffer amidst this allotted season of time, alloyed to be set free — entwined, in unkind times, and diverse troubles, of sorrowful struggles; beholden, then., terrible we are to be, for greater is the monolith and monster, in we.

That Olden Antiquity

Life fleeting, exponentially…
If not recursed, but threatening the very existentialism,
If not, then this shallowest life, so bleakly fouled with misery,
Shall cease its senseless pursuit, and will gleam no more,
But affront to be boundlessly free…
The pained remembrance…
The waned entrenchment…
This is but an attempt to find means to end that dreaded resonance, which echoes sadness’s and resplendence’s, to find the source of this great sorrow, to end the longing of tomorrow’s eternalising doom.
At peace, finally…into painless inexistence.

The fog rolls in…
The unwavering thunder of glory,
The unparalleled power, roaming.,
Amidst the precipice of the abyss…,
Gales of mists, shrouded in mystery…,
But misery…consumed in full, my being…,
My vitality, loftless and lost amongst and…,
Within the endless fogs, so thick and sightless…
Sorrow overwhelming, tomorrow underwhelming…

Love lost
Darkness fallen
Hearts never recovered
Disdain never faltered
Animus, the essence
Free us, this instance
Into harrowed oblivion, astray…
To this final day, bound, profound…
The profaned place, of heartache and disgrace…
Allot us, this moment under the sun…so glorious,
And feed us, so we may embark upon the sailing ship so endlessly ineptitude to emptiness, again, unto the fray…the sandstorms so compelling, the whirlwinds so perplexing,

The tsunamis so bewildering, and the life with mortality, deeply felt, so waning…
When despair comes, it comes unrelenting, and with full force.
We who worship death, until our last dying breath…from wayward to eternity,
The farther north, the colder forth…
The darker the essence, the starker the quintessential spirit,
Enthralled and consumed by that singular essence, of flickering darkness.

|Love … Death|

Fall to that desecrated ground, and let it be consecrated by his hands, by his will, and in his namesake…
And on that day, every knee bent, and on that day, every countenance failed, and on that day, fear unparalleled, indwelled the spirits of men.
If but one prayer would be answered, I’d ask my reluctance to life be lifted, and the veil of death, be opened… I’d ask thee to take me, to receive me beforehand, my beloveds…
I cannot bear the thought of witnessing those I care about, so inexpressibly, bewept and awash, into death and loftless loss.
I cannot even by your hands, but by your commendation, withstand the heartache which ensues and follows the bleak misfortune that is death, nor can I implore thee enough, to let them outlast me, and mine essence, in this life. 
If you will allot me but one mercy, let it be — death takes me, before it does them; let it be, death consumes me, instead of them; let it be, death becomes me, if arises the circumstance.
Oh how I thought that star was lesser…,
Knowing now, I was not the wiser…,
The sorrow seems inexorable to and from my being…if only the emptiness could be stripped away, how then the longing would lead to disarray…
My love for my parents is inexpressibly great, so much, that it hurts, and painfully wanes and tears at my soul…
I feel so lost, and so incomplete, I feel hopeless, useless and beyond brokenness.  I am the bane of my family, I am that which weighs them down, I am not the solution, I am the problem…

The Maturing Darkness

Hate is inexorable; once it consumes you, it becomes you.
There, deep within the reignless night, I seek solace, and solution, to this barren fright.
Here, felling deeper, the delving deeply, creepily crawling, honed to awing testament, where the cries are forever lit – aflame, lamenting, wallowing and crying…for remand, for salvation, for but soughten freedom from saddened reprobation, and redemption from the seditions so iniquitous…, whereto the sorrow is harrower, and the morrow forevermore ghastly, to the ever-hallowed tomorrows, how harmonic… 

Where, sovereignless, the quintessence of the serpent’s embrace, crowned, affront the frowned countenance, where contemplating the futile pursuit, there ventured, upon the precipice of deadening minds, deafening ears, and blinded eyes…, formless, these shadows, nearer to the antiquating reality of wept meadows, filled with berated sorrows, inexorable, insatiable, the blooming blight, of vastness and tarred remembrance, inadequately–depthless, measureless and weightless…to this, the aboriginal antiquation, distraught and dismayed — to the surreal glimpse of the wistful existence…of tomorrow and eternity more…, amongst and upon’st the greater of us…the meeker, the broker, the haplessly desolated, in spirit, fleshless, and orated, to’ist the paining ordained.