dove gli angeli ed i demons temono camminare

for he will break the world
the blood of angels
and demons
drips from his lips
the frost of purgatory
rides exhaled breath
to rape queens and
make love to whores
melding heaven and hell
and from the ashes
he will fashion
for himself
a god


i have
spent
most of the
day
in
quiet reflection
[or atleast]
[that part of it]
[in which i was not sleeping]

i have
been
behaving
in ways that
would shame
bacchus himself

perhaps it is a
reaction to having been
cooped up inside
resting for so long
perhaps
a
sign of
much a greater illness

perhaps i am
merely trying to
amuse myself
and fill
unexpected time

i spent
an hour or two
reviewing memories

and i find myself
in
almost the same place
as
i was
long ago

chasing
pleasures
revelling in mine own
decadence

by accident or
intent
i have the past few days
imbibed far more than
is
generally considered
advisable

but for what?

for the look
in her eyes
locked to mine

her breath
forced out
from between slightly
parted lips

the feel of her nails
scraping down the
flesh of my back

our lips join
mismatched
pulling gently
the left half of
her upper lip between mine
letting it slide back
slowly
through my teeth

my fingers
play symphonies
lightly along
the backs of her arms

my teeth bared
drag slowly down her neck
her shoulder
pausing for the occasional

nip

these moments
of
lust
spun in our
minds
into gold

but to me
what is this quintessence of dust?

man delights not me
nor
woman niether

though by your smile
your seem to say so

(no subject)

i keep feeling
wishing hoping
praying

if only
if only
there was something that i
want

but to me
it is all
worthless
nothing draws me
nothing compels me

all i want
is to want something
anything

that i may
garner some purpose
some direction

but
instead
i
waste
here
there
where matters not

for it is my soul
that festers

and with that
my loves
i
go

sweet dreams
and
slumbered screams

of skeletons and
monsters

await

calling me

calling me

ever so
tenderly
to lie in their
cracked and jagged
fingers

to sleep
perchance to dream
of the lost faces
in my soul