1. |
Laumė
07:45
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Dim lit cobblestone lies before my lazy eyes,
embraced by the aspen in concrete cage,
mechanical beast’s lungs.
Streak of light from street lamps stabs my retina,
I stumble towards the grass.
Feeble and limp, a true life’s irony,
I grip tired oaken roots.
Distant yellow dots merge together
and bring my sleep.
Chuckles of youth surround this grotesque,
shameful park.
Shimmer of damp weeds, the footsteps I hear,
half-dressed silhouette of black haired witch.
Her bony cold limbs entangle my carcass,
the blood I thought ran out filled my hungry sins.
I felt the heat inside, murmur of her thighs,
that brought me back to life.
Our wet cold swing gawked by wooden skeletons,
her cigarette laden breath and steady rhythm of infamy.
I tried to resist this soulless carnal ritual,
Sucked back I was again, willingness to be strong.
My lids slid open, the smell of fog I felt,
my body as useless as it’s ever been.
A drunken melody and laughter of the suits,
a bottle that brought my witch to me.
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2. |
The Way We Were
09:34
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Long months disappear,
stable yet frail their creation.
Map of life on your canvas,
the chemical need for temporality.
Silence suspended in frozen air,
submission sustained by the curve of your back.
Doubts and fears on snow white pillows,
moans and sighs in lungs’ cold prison.
Bristling foal who plays inside
turns skeletal and useless outside.
Ignorance swallowed whole.
These astral dreams that turn to nightmares,
passionate whispers morph to screams.
Will we stay? The way we were?
The morning light and slow calm breathing,
broken by the lust endearing.
Speechless fires of hidden lies,
your playful jests that turn to cries.
Patient and stoic, dreadful and real,
never encountered before these games feel.
Flick of your eyelids, my system rewires,
move of your tongue and my scars come alive.
Fully awaken from eons of slumber,
only to be put to sleep come September.
Paralyzed in time,
willingly I'm blind to hope.
Limerence with crimson robe,
a dagger’s distance from my throat.
Illusionary maze
that leads to outcomes fully known.
Despite the horrors at its end
I take your hand and run.
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3. |
Maldoror
09:10
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Funeral bells toll,
affirming death eons old.
The distance that murdered
this cursed love on barren fields,
washed by guilt that made it yield.
The dirge to this empty state.
My bride dressed in drabs,
her hollow eyes depart.
No longer throbs her heart.
I hide behind the idle veil, devout.
Instinctive desire overtook my human pride.
I squeeze tight her pale neck.
I watch life leave her eyes.
Anxiety will never die.
"And I, tonight my heart is light!
No dirge will I uprise.
But waft the angel on her flight,
with a Paean of old days!"
I see the end, the chapter’s close,
and killed the fate that led us both,
to chaos loins and sorrow’s depths.
Abandon hope I should not trust.
On the pyre of trust,
the figure of smoke arise.
Slithers with lust and life,
on freezing wasteland path.
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4. |
Pantheon
09:12
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Galore of thousand gothic bricks,
erect and solemn.
Towers untouched by gales of history.
All of them I’ve seen,
wondrous creations of Man.
All of them are dwarfed,
by curves of pale flesh.
Black with silver linings,
carves the soft canvas of skin.
Maelstrom of crimson darkness.
The domes under lace of blinding white.
The sight of silent darkened lips
had led me to the new eclipse.
Of miracles I’ve seen before
that scatter from my humbled core.
Monumental churches burn,
fires spread on her every turn.
Lace that binds her painted spine
tarnishes my moral fine.
Ghosts of black haunt me.
Dreams of ivory ocean.
The dive into the river, the sentimental,
cathedral of her vast metropolis.
The remanence of her voice, I yearn it to resolve.
As Widor’s meditation, as calm as breeze of July.
They fade, the ruins of her grace, there’s only stone and moss.
I dream of heat that fueled my seizures, I see it crumble now.
These useless thorough journeys, delusions of blind man.
The ivy overtake the bricks of column I have felt.
I sink my claws into the picture, the flesh and fabric tear.
Mute cries that never will be heard, she slowly turns to dust.
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5. |
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Agate glimpse, iris of ice,
Charcoal feathers cut into lids.
For a moment peering deep into
Nordic soul, somber and disguised.
Raven and a cobalt rose,
pale veins and our memories.
Lithograph of ages, engraved on her skin.
Ride through her thighs with the fingernail ends,
Strings of her neck plucked to release carnal breath.
Descent into madness through windings of breasts,
shivering limbs that will never find rest.
Venus incarnate, Perfect bout of the violin spine.
Rays wash the base, soft and wild. I yearn to feel
its pulse - weak and tame - surround the ocean gardens.
Smile that lifts my sterile
heart with the lips of searing fire,
electric lust and
art, the masterpiece of
God, overshadowed and abandoned,
the swansong of its time.
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6. |
October Swing
07:27
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Endless autumn evening,
followed by the seizures of the night.
Lilac and gooseberry scent, obsidian,
pentagram and her violet gaze, the shard of ice.
Her only hope, this heartless sorceress,
to soothe the demons of her dreams.
Beneath the black velvet and white lace,
absence of lust sires a labyrinth.
Longing, pain and anxiety.
Confusion enables the careless compassion.
Grueling and senseless affair.
Conditioning for her talent`s awakening.
A childish rage and mother’s patience,
her sterile hopes of virgin magic.
Is this what will be sacrificed?
A lust for warmth to immortal unrest.
Unknown to her yet this swing of feelings.
In time she`ll learn these cruel fate’s reasons.
Innocence and youth will soon vanish,
replaced by lessons frozen in time.
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