F(r)iend*

Deathwish came to me in a lonesome hour.
She smiled at me when none did the same.
She wept away crystals while holding me close,
And told me lies I dare believe.

Deathwish peered into my eyes with conviction,
She gave me petals of iron to draw patterns in crimson.
Her hand upon mine, we began to use them.

Deathwish leaned over me for a kiss farewell.
She painted my charms with scriptures, and wished me life in hell.

Undeclared

To my "big fan",
Thank you for your indulging words, and scaring the hell out of me!

All my respects,

A Tribute to Black Metal!

Darkness, hear my plea!
Descend upon my wretched form!
Unholy Darkness! Beholder of Lucifer's glory!
Descend and pierce my soul!
I have sinned for so long, awaiting thy ambrosias praise!


After listening to Dark Funeral and Darkthrone for about a couple of hours, this is what I ended up writing. Who says music doesn't brainwash you?
This is meant for entertainment, so please don't start with me being possessed!

For The Three Wells of Oblivion

Well of Emptiness, inside my head.
Well of Emptiness, feeds my dread.
Well of Emptiness, once was I,
Well of Emptiness, now running dry.

Well of Nothingness, be entwined.
Well of Nothingness, don't deny.
Well of Nothingness, the echoes above,
Well of Nothingness, my irrational alcove.

Well of Wistfulness, I pray for demise,
Well of Wistfulness, of the Father of Lies.
Well of Wistfulness, cleanse my scars,
Well of Wistfulness, of His poisonous wrath.

My Windows Live Space

Ardent Demise

Just some other blog to post quotes and images I like!

Emily Bronte

"They thought the tide of grief would flow
Uncheck'd through future years;
But where is all their anguish now,
And where are all their tears?

Well, let them fight for honour's breath
Or pleasure's shade pursue--
The dweller in the land of death
Is changed and careless too."

- My Lady's Grave

Daily Instruments

Unreal

She doesn't exist in this world, only beyond the surface of the cold screen. She doesn't exist. And I hate that I compare her to all beings when put to test. How crude and tedious they become, and how she would silently suffer in isolation. But she's not real; I am yet to convince myself. I need her, but she's of my own creation, I give her the pulse, the silence in which she mesmerizes me. I make her tragic, and alluring but I can't feel her warmth. Only blankly stare where she resides. Beyond the screen. Inside my head.

How To Wash Your Hands

Sophie and I walked into a resturant restroom and this is what we found hanging on the wall:



...Gee, I wouldn't have figured out how to wash my hands if it weren't for this poster :/