when you reach the end and look back upon the days gone by....
the soft grey mornings, beauty not seen - too hungover from the nights forays - wasted time - to wake up early...
slow painful afternoons - stretched like old snakeskin - end to end...
hot crazy nights... waking up - the same nightmarish ordeal continues....

looking back at those intricate threads laid out like patterns in an ivy leaf, could we ask the question - if doing things differently would've led to another life - for better or for worse - a different life... could we have said the right words? or not said the wrong ones...
or would it just be someone else asking those questions - not me...

"we live, we die and death not ends it
journey we more into the nightmare clinging to life our passion'd flower
clinging to cunts and cocks of despair
we got our final vision by clap
Columbus' groin got filled with green death
(I touched her thigh and death smiled)"

Eternal Autumn

Reddish leaves swirl in the wind like lost souls in search of rest. Like an open sketchbook focused on my dreams, this land is forever pictured as a comforting Autumn dusk. Replete with a golden sky, with crackling river water & bubbling marshes that dot the land, it feels like a Romantic artist's canvas...

... but further down the path, it is as if the shadows are swallowing the surroundings whole, without a penchant of logic or drop of meaning. It is as if, the only reason for this lies in darkness itself. Like royalty that rules the black void, entombed in the night infinite - it is she, the Eternal Mistress of Shadows.

Some connections are made to be discovered, while others remain unseen. Some lands are best never spoken, as their hell lies in between...

The Dark Prince

He swayed gently, sitting on the humming wires,
Elegance understated - his keen eyes watch all, as the shadows grow tall…
(the setting sun spills innocent virgin blood over the horizon)
The luscious flowers in my garden bower hold no sway o’er him
(their fragrance is too sweet)
His eyes have seen birth of new life, and have smiled for each one that died,
and have watched the falling cherry blossoms… at the height of spring.
Don’t look into his pretty eyes,
(swim into those black waters, drowning in his big pretty eyes)
Vile creatures - they feast on carrion flesh and rotting corpses

"I got wiring loose inside my head
I got books that I never ever read
I got secrets in my garden shed
I got a scar where all my urges bled
I got people underneath my bed
I got a place where all my dreams are dead
Swim with me into your blackest eyes"