The Beauty of Life

This is horror, so I suggest reading with the lights on in the daytime. This is some people's bread and butter, but it's certainly not for everyone. Still happy with how it turned out though.

The Beauty of Life

Inhibition my cognition

Seeing visions of my lineage

Crawling like a bug

Crushed like an ant

Pay homage to a saint that died in a spiderweb

Alabaster slipknots hug the ghoul's ruminations in safety-pins with every glacier of cold blood unsettled in the body like bathwater left stagnant

I’m searching for the grave of no one in the dirt where I live like a family

Innocence is the name I search for

A thorn in my side that used to be a rose

But death has claimed my friends’ names

And I find nothing but a monster named Sin

Which is thankful for the death that has yet to come

I hang my sorrows out to dry, after I drown my hunger

And eat the souls of the whole

And go through the normal day clad in the mavericks’ animal skins

Because the beasts have lost their macabre humanity

And I’ve lost my Innocence, buried under instinct

And I search through the depravity for some sanity I left behind with my nightmare

In the cerebral abbreviated ebony skyline scraped by screams that rape my dreams like deities

My name is such an heirloom of hierarchical hieroglyphs

That I cannot read it through the lesions that letter my tethered hide into a saddle riding on the bones of disassociated hatred into the once battlefield of what remains

I loved you

So much

That I forget you betrayed your own

So I accepted

That I was willing to take you in

And consume you

Illuminate the rattling sacrilege of basilisks that grow from my enclosure

Opening like a flower, petaling Armageddon, rooted to my love, like recycling genesis

A carcass draped over the hollow ground, shading amalgamation

Feeding on the moon, making light of me, and my dark desires, hardwired to my clarinet

That singe a song as I burn the lyrics that have devoured my soul

As the reed remedies the extremities of beauty the undevastated have stolen from my hell

Psychosis is a heavenless solace solitary soliciting graveyard martyrs that graffiti the demonstrators exorcised by the cold-hearted fire of my respite

Alighted alignment killing the vigilant that have yet to know the splendour of ignorance

I write for the purpose of letting you know the wrath you’ve been deprived of

The love that you could have grown from, like a seed of fear in the garden of Eden, metamorphesizing deforestation

The knowledge of apologetic apostles of apocalyptic privilege

The sickness of green leaves has spread across the deadlands

The sky is sanguine cannibalism dangling from the ceiling headlamp of the crack attic

Where I hid some lost humanity and false god's debauchery, in a place where the pacemaker of sunlight will not beat against the husk of my hollow heart of sarkicism

I would shower you in a beautiful bouquet of words

But one does not bring flowers to a funeral

As the dead roll over in their graves, can they wake up from their nightmare simply to smell the roses' pandemonium?

And the greyhound of god does not understand the pain of eternity

The beauty of life

As it squirms through the wendigo curtains of my swansong

Decomposing every poem to cloak the shadow of Death in the rhythmic photosynthesis

Of the methodical culmination of such darkness that the silver scythe of the moon on the wilderness’s Gilgamesh, death is just another shade of grey, pretending to be the black sheep

When it is only a mixed breed

To have understood, and lived through the end, is merely the beginning, silence is the only voice that speaks to me, but I can not hear reason, I became Death a long time ago

Author's Note

I was pretty depressed when I wrote this. I wish I could write happy poetry all the time. But it's difficult to always write in such a beautiful way. Ugly things are far more noticeable than beautiful ones. As if the mind wants to be unhappy, and share that feeling with those who haven't succumbed to the illness.

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.

Reviews

[.]

If poets only had to write happy poems to amuse people then they can't be poets instead an entertainer. The aim of poetry is not only to give pleasure, it was made for readers to visualise the reality from a poet's eyes and break the walls of this misty world where beauty is nothing but a mirage. I strictly oppose calling this "Ugly". This is more beautiful than what you call a beautiful poem. When as a reader I can sense each word here, it's simply a great piece. Honestly, I am stuck this one since last two days and reading it in bits and now it's finally completed. I think when a poem comes from the painful screams of a person's heart and it can induce the pain in someone else's its the best poem ever written.

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

Your support warms my heart. I’m happy to have a friend like you.

[.]

People with freezing hearts often try warming others.😶
Anyway you don't have to give excuses for writing such pieces, after all there's nothing wrong with these. The pen is yours, the paper is yours and the poem is yours, spill every part of you on it, as you like it. I am happy to be your friend as well.😊
Keep writing and be bold with your words!

[Onlyme]

First of all, i would like to say i admire you for sharing your gifts with us even when you feel depressed and down. As poetry and expressing yourself is not just all about doing so when the mood affects in a great way. But in many ways, dark and sad and tragic times I do agree. As you are sharing a part of you, others can also relate to in bad times. A human being is a complex matter. Many layers and dynamics.

Your poem shares vulnerability rawness, openness and deepness of the human heart, mind and soul. Their fears, needs, hurts and statements of who we all are as humans when the darkness affects us and starts to consume our soul. But being human means we can find solace and openings of moments in bad times, to reflect and come to terms with bitter and bad things and learn to accept them and move on, more positive and renewed. I am not saying this is easy but with perseverance and evolution of humans on earth, we have hond said skills of moving on a little bit quicker with deal with traumatic and spiralling times in our lives. Not saying it easy but it can be done with practice and determination and finding that self-love again to heal YOU. Take it from someone who knows exactly how it feels and at times still finds it hard to deal with depression and bad times well. That is what makes us Human.

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

Thank you for looking out for me, I'll try my best to beat my depression, sometimes it's just difficult.