The clouds scudded over the moon, and hid his shame
wishing he had never known her, never knew her name
The absence of his light made the pond weep
is there to be no remnant of joy for her to keep?
Be with me, and leave me not, she softly implored
cast me not into darkness, let your light be restored
His reply stung deeply, for every word was true
you have the sun by day, fair one, and is ever with you
A sad sigh as she explained, truly the sun is mine
but for you gentle moon, I inescapably pine
So soothing is your glow, tender are your beams
filling me with peace, and feeding my secret dreams
Be my companion through the long lone
The sky finally broke and rain fell on the pond
a deluge overflowing her much burdened banks and beyond
Why does there always seem to be room for more?
is there no limit on this sorrowful downpour?
Heartless sky, cruel as hell
unleashes its fury, making the pond swell
When already full to brimming
her deep despair brooks no skimming
Each drop a soul eating cancer
she searches and vaguely reaches an answer
Remembering she began as a pool of tears
only becoming the quiet pond after many years
On the surface, calm and serene
reflecting the skys' either brilliant or lackluster sheen
But hidden beneath, the tenacious life below
allo
Avatar of The Emptiness
by Derek
There is a sanctuary in The Emptiness,
wrought of our memories, ghastly and fair.
A realm disjointed from flesh and from time:
Beyond the shores of desolation and despair.
It is a place where Our Nightmares,
and Dreams, in uncertain union dwell.
It stretches Beyond the opaline heavens.
. . . Beyond the edges of the blackest hell.
Its fields are gardens--stinging vales of thorn.
Its walls spiral endlessly: rings of tears, of pain.
Here is where madness from Reason is born,
and in madness We sojourn these Isles insane.
From infinite expanses of gray, of ash, of dust,
come the howls and the laughter of The Be
Angel of The Bloody Wings
By Derek
Tempered from our pain,
and smelted with our tears,
Angel of the Bloody Wings,
ye born from all our fears.
Creep silently in thought,
and our dreaming wonder,
Angel of the bloody wings,
ye speak with hate's thunder.
Absolve us of our banality,
and the blight of stagnation,
Angel of the bloody wings,
ye beyond infernal damnation.
Forgive us of our imperfections,
and the blur of wrong and right,
Angel of the bloody wings,
ye that see all with blinded sight.
Remind us of who we are, and were,
the young, the mature, and the worn,
Angel of the bloody wings,
ye that stand beside all who are
Avatar of Ruin: The Thirteenth by Arcanoi, literature
Literature
Avatar of Ruin: The Thirteenth
Avatar of Ruin: The Thirteenth Hour
by Derek
I. One: One is the path of desire--one expression, and one singular goal.
II. Two: Two eyes glitter as cold and as black as the absent moon.
III. Three: Three are the whispered words that serve to enslave the soul.
IV. Four: Four bodies merge of spirit, of flesh, and lay nigh to join me soon.
V. Five: Five kisses--these shall define the distinction between love and lust.
VI. Six: Six chains of temptation--the unspoken, unbridled prices they pay.
VII. Seven: Seven are the sins entrusted to me--bound to me in my trust.
VIII. Eight: Eight are the lashes to elicit illicit pleasures unknown, un
Relinquish the Chains
by Derek
Whisperers of the eternal curses,
Blasphemers of the haunting face,
Angels of this Nightmare's lust . . .
come away with me from this place.
Our hearts will quicken unto the Fall;
Our bodies thrash past joy and pain.
This knowledge of self, and ourselves,
oh, my disciples, how can we abstain?
The walls are crumbling around us,
The ceilings, cracked and shattered,
The world is torn, its life lay bleeding--
as though such a concern ever mattered.
We will herald the beginning and the end;
Our hands, our lips, our souls as one.
The laughter and the smile . . . the beauty.
The beauty of what we have
The Shadow Poet
by Derek
These hands--the hands that scribe--
the letters and the symbols of pain . . .
Set them upon the parchments dark,
and allow them to leave their stain.
For we are embarked on a journey,
one that will lead us to isles insane . . .
And there, yes, there will we create . . .
the beauty of our thoughts profane.
There lay the majesties of imagination,
and the nightmares that lay unbound.
The horrid lines and visions of terrors,
that in the depths of us all resound . . .
In the silence of contemplation,
where the quietus of joys do lie
--the place of cruel introspection--
where the shadow-dreams reside . . .
Current Residence: In a carboard box... Favourite genre of music: Have none... anything good Favourite style of art: Vector abstracts and sigs Operating System: Windows Vista MP3 player of choice: iPod Skin of choice: YELLOW FOR LIFE!!!! CHINK!!! Favourite cartoon character: Archer Personal Quote: Cruentus Crepusculum: Progenitus ad Obscurum
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