Whisk away the need of proving your pain,
So we'd meet crossroad to heaven and hell,
Take a whip to take another turn,
Risk me your innocent blood eager to spill.
All I need is no living lights to lie,
No shimmering skies to light and die,
No blooming roses pretending to be alive,
No history pages with dark lyrics and rhyme,
And no love lying to spark just to turn to cries.
Bearing heartpierced to mourn,
All I ever needed was to fly backwards as a must,
Like I really like it when you muster the trust,
Fester to rot and charm it to burn.
I'm sliver bound to bane life,
Such a wonderful rip to the grapes that ripe,
Flooding the land with sanguine wine,
Moon-pale as the light strikes the vine,
When do we realise it's all carnage spitting another lie?
Harvesting the marrow of hunt-works in shelves,
Feast upon lord-blood by the royal bred,
Bolstering in bottles with ettiquetes of broidered silk,
With shining gold stained in ardent, crimson bullets,
Alive as the drops of incandescent velvet.
Why does it sting when you say my name?
When you lick your lips to savour my pain,
And your fingers violently stained,
In painful fields of pale, purple shade,
Malevolent as you unlayer my brain,
When will the bleeding thoughts stop to create?
Subtle notes of despair in my glass,
They feel like treacherous demons with masks,
Of vanilla sparks, tingling in flavor at dusk,
Smoking mirrors, hated when the truth they lash,
Terror in wake, as the moon grows color-blinded ash,
Over the comatose fields where mindbreak is stashed.
YOU ARE READING
Perturbance
Poetry"The chaos is scattered and split, but the order it has is not for us to see." Here is my 2nd poetry book, yet another journey delving into the depths of the mind to uncover one self. The chapters will diverse in theme, yet they will be having dark...
