Battered Thoughts

Dawn threatens to bring such misery. In what way can this end? Hatred casts such ugly looks and as I absorb them I fill myself becoming a formless void. Across sun bleached dunes I trek. The hot sand burrows deep within yawning wounds my blade created. The tears they cry are memories stamped in heartache.

Though they are divided by language the meaning is the same and as I collapse on bloody knees I tilt my face skyward and scream. The blistering sun reddens my skin. Soon pus pockets erupt and disperse yellow liquid. As I char, blacken and combust into flames, my cries pierce the day, but no one cares. No one hears.

And I come to this conclusion: if I don't write about something other than horror, angst, pain and darkness…I might just end up killing myself.

And so here it is. I am unsure how to proceed in these moments of despair, but I know I must press on regardless of what troll might be waiting for me around the corner. Like a desperate demon she lurks in my shadow. Her words are venom that pulsates ignorance and yet she doesn't sense that her immaturity is anything but amusing.

And still...I am the seed in darkness's mouth. I turn to writing for a creative outlet. And in the realm of imagination I detail the world I create carefully to suit these emotions.

I'd hate to think…that whatever I may become might someday be…a lesser shadow of humanity. If a perfect balance exists I fail to see how it plays a part in everyday life. So many views exist in today’s so called "modern" times. It all boils down to opinion and the belief of rights.

What seems rather primal in my warped and deranged mind is that one manifests great hatred for another based on looks or choice of art, style, music, etc. That said person does not take a look outside the box and consider that just because they have nothing to share or relate to that deems him/her the right to stalk, harass and demean the other.

My point is we all have differences. We also may share some things in common. But why then hate on a person if you cannot find any reason to visit their art or any given profile without having a s**t attack?

If I am exploring the cyber world and stumble upon a artist of whatever genre or taste and I fail to see his/her vision I am not going to spend a second longer browsing his/her story, poem, art, or whatever. I will move on. I will find one who I can identify with or simply work on my own projects.

Tolerance is key though.

Onyx eyes devoured the forgotten pleasures forever lingering in the brilliance of hate. Treasures forsaken in time of splendor reflect this tragedy. Haunted am I by the fibers of truth as it weaves about a silk tapestry I cannot lift.

Retreat into madness. Its’ vise grip burrows ceaseless until it pierces the soul or….

Why is there blood? Life…bleeds away one drop at a time and…

I have to entertain my own fantasy from time to time. Blood, muscle and bone always invade with gifts of such hellish promise. I have only a moment to look upon humanity and see its damnation with an empty head, an open heart and eyes sown shut. I want to melt into the very layer of pride and marry it with injustice.

Darkness will imprison them. Though decay rests on my tongue I bury my lethal sword in her womb so that she may never spoil the earth with her offspring. And still the pain will never be enough to satisfy me as I slip away.