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http://www.nihilarchitect.net/Poetry/On ... 20void.pdf


Thu Mar 06, 2008 7:35 pm
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...


Last edited by Silverdrone on Wed Sep 24, 2008 2:25 am, edited 1 time in total.



Fri Mar 07, 2008 4:48 am
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Foul

Close the gates of Nevermore
For your life is filled with neverending gore
May the souls of those who silently perish
In your heart find someone to cherrish

Silent gazes of what may come
Deepened stills of All and Some
But all dreams lost to no avail
Hope-Despair are nothing but a tale!


Fri Mar 07, 2008 11:24 am
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"Stacking up points for conspiring against them
why was it thought that neglect would make this better?
felt so compelled with a mind full of rot
destruction of the paths that were bridged from me to god
the once pure thoughts were then tainted by suggestion
poisoned by ideals that would break this relation

the stars behind his eyes flicker out with contempt
surveying this moment for the weakness of men
plagued by the thought of guilt and betrayal
now picking things up at a pace of a snail
left of the chest is a strong sense of teeth marks
round on her back are the knife wounds in the heart
with the bombshell dropped and rubbed in the face
where now from here alone and disgraced?"

i was thinking of lying and saying someone else wrote this because i never like my lyrics, but really theres not much point in that.
so suggestions/constructive critisism would be much appreciated :)

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Thu Aug 07, 2008 6:40 pm
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Can I stop myself from opening my eyes?
So that I may never see
The rubble of dirt that lay below me,
The little pieces of my past that burn before me…
So that I might never be
A pathetic old man clinging to his young life,
And a foundation for helplessly severed ties,
Periled by the possible idea that his young dreams turned into an aging lie….

Can somebody help me close my tearing eyes?
I’ve a doubt now,
With the memories I hold of drowning under the weight of pernicious lies
While believing that your words were the only that can clear my sky…
Yes, I’ve a doubt now
That any words are worth hearing,
And is any happiness worth bearing?
Always returning to the middle ground that I started before
Feeling the ground below break down more and more
Making any chance of escaping the floor below me
More like suicide…

I’ve not a dirge
That I’ve felt more than this
Or has been aided by such a fall
Into a relationship amiss…
But I can honestly say with open eyes
That I’ve not yet fallen completely
Into a redundant life…
And...
As far away as it seems for me,
I’ll continue to live
For the hope that some day
From your memory I will be
Completely free...


Wed Sep 24, 2008 2:24 am
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so depressed
unknowing hatred but feeling it
fuck it

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funn! O)))


Thu Sep 25, 2008 10:59 am
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Let's raise the mood a little, here...

Relativity 1

The inside of the car was a gloomy place to be; all greys and blacks. The Doctor thought of it as a car, though it more resembled a fighter jet then any car you might have seen. Most of its eighteen feet were taken up by a massive engine, and powered by a nuclear core it was the most powerful engine in the world. It was a brand new invention; a break through in engineering, it provided enough power to allow people to reach near light speeds. With this technology the Doctor could finally put Einstein’s paradoxes to rest.
The Doctor was a doctor of physics. He’d achieved his doctorate by spending several years twisting wire and taking corresponding measurements and he’d thoroughly enjoyed it, as he’d enjoyed all of his time studying physics. All except one aspect; the paradoxes of Einstein’s relativity. He still remembered being perplexed about them as he studied at university. It was in the first course he took.

The premise was simple enough: if an object travels at extremely high speeds it will experience length contraction; that is, it will be observed to have become smaller than it actually is. It in turn would observe stationary objects to have contracted, as movement is only relative to one’s own stillness, and from the perspective of the mover who can consider himself stationary, stationary objects would appear (and act) as if they were moving. But this led to a problem.
“Imagine a car,” the professor who was lecturing him had said, “that is eighteen feet long, and imagine a garage that is only fifteen feet long. Under ordinary circumstances this car has no chance of fitting into the garage, but let’s imagine that the car is capable of near light speeds. The owner of the car would be hurtling down the road at an impossibly fast speed and everyone standing on the pavement would observe the car to have shrunk in size, let’s say to fifteen feet. As he approaches his garage his wife is standing by, waiting for his return. She sees him, as everyone else does, in a fifteen-foot car and as far she’s concerned it will have no problem fitting into the garage. She watches her husband drive into the garage, observes that he’s inside and closes the garage door. The car is inside the garage.
“However, the man in the car observes something rather different. From his perspective everything else seems to have contracted and he sees the garage as being twelve feet, while his car remains eighteen feet. There’s no way, from his perspective, that his car will fit into the garage.” The professor allowed his audience to process these ideas.
“But professor,” the Doctor had asked, “what would happen? Would the car fit in the garage or not?” The professor smiled elusively.
“That is a very good question,” he said. The Doctor remained confounded, and harboured that confusion all these years.

The car hummed quietly. It didn’t have wheels; at high speeds the friction with the road would just tear them apart, so instead it sat on a cushion of air, much like a hovercraft. It was kept in place by some very sturdy steel poles that were secured firmly to the ground. When he’d release those poles the car would shoot off with as much power as he allowed.
The Doctor composed himself. Soon history would be made. Fundamental questions would be answered and he’d be the one to answer them. He reached out and pressed a button labelled ‘Ignition’. The great engine fired up with a mighty roar, its nuclear core coming into life. The Doctor looked in his rear-view mirror and saw the air around the engine shimmering, as if it were made of water. Streams of dust shot about in all directions as they were blown away by the engine’s enormous power. The Doctor carefully raised the power to its maximum and the chaos behind escalated. Bits of tarmac started to come apart from the road and fly off. The steel poles holding the car began to shake. They wouldn’t hold out for much longer. The Doctor’s spine tingled as he reached out for the brake-release button. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the button. Something seemed wrong, as if there was something he’d failed to calculate while preparing for this experiment. He cast his mind back through all he’d done, trying to find something he’d forgotten to do, but found nothing. No, everything was fine. Shaking off the last of his doubt the Doctor pressed the button.
The acceleration was tremendous. The Doctor felt every part of his body being pinned to the back of his seat. The road he now hurtled along had been especially prepared for this moment; it was as smooth as silk and with nothing ahead except the garage at the end. As he reached the top speed he began to see the world around him clearly becoming smaller and another tingle shot down his spine. He was actually observing special relativity in its most pertinent manifestation.
Time seemed to slow down. He knew he was travelling at an incredible speed, but he could easily make out the scenery he passed, rather than simply seeing the blur of colour one might expect. He saw the garage as he approached it, and his wife standing beside it. She had her hand on the door and a determined look on her face. She knew how important this experiment was to him. He entered the garage and saw its shelves and its ceiling. He saw its back wall and suddenly remembered what he’d omitted in his preparations.
The resulting explosion could be heard for miles around.

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Mon Oct 27, 2008 3:01 am
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Post Re: Your writing

metalhead226 wrote:
I'd like to see it please. :D

And, if only to prove that something can be much worse than your own, here is some of mine:

Pax Mortis n.b. if this Latin is incorrect, please correct it for me. I'll buy you a drink.

There in the dark am I, dark fated
Wherein waits the beast that eats and finds itself not sated
And so would devour my life and all good therein,
Leaving my fêted soul barren.
So I lie still and wait to sleep,
Fearing to sleep, and sleep in fear,
For if I should not wake, would I find peace?
Though if I should wake still would I find no peace,
For my waking is an epilogue
To dreams that shun interpretation
Which, in the interpreting, would give peace
Or some piece thereof, for they are of peace
Or if not of peace, of that which would lead to peace
If their meaning could be deciphered.
Would that I had means to devise their meaning
Or else dreamt of plain peace (a mean yet pleasant tease)
Or slept in the peace of dreamlessness
Or died, and found eternal peace -
Would that my soul rest.
Chide me as a child,
For foolish as a child I am
Or chide me not
For though a fool, I am a man
And possess that manner which maketh man
And e'en deeper still, the manor of my keeping
Wherein I'm kept, but can not rest
Or rest a while, but can not keep from restlessness.
Therefore, I beg thee bring me peace
Or death, or dreamless sleep
Or bring me nothing save thyself
My company to keep.

Void

I wandered for four days
Expecting to find in my route
The root of my cares
But having left my cares
I could not find their cause
And in due course I returned
To find them waiting in the old places
Silent, begrudging
Grown strong in my absence
And I wept in fear and sorrow
And wished I had never returned
Or, worse still, had never left.
For while some men walk
With the weight of the world to break their back
The burden upon my shoulders is more plainly seen;
It is my head.
That which I yearn for most
I spurn on reception
Or make deception
And imply that I had no want of it
Or I make no such act and show my want
And repulse it with my yearning.
So spurn me, for I crave your ear
Or your embrace, or praise, or love
And that which has naught but empty space
Would take all given
And being wanting for all
Want all in sight
And this being true
My path avoid
For you would find
My head
And heart
And soul
All void.


Martin always writes good stuff


Mon Nov 24, 2008 11:12 am
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smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day

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funn! O)))


Tue Dec 02, 2008 5:18 am
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Don't you mean "ev'ry"?

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Tue Dec 02, 2008 6:34 pm
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no, i mean er'ry. it is pronounced like "airy", but sloppier sounding.

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funn! O)))


Thu Dec 04, 2008 7:57 pm
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and they say poetry is dead :p


Mon Dec 08, 2008 3:03 pm
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smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day smoke weed er'ry day

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also, obama hates jews and blacks.


Mon Dec 08, 2008 3:29 pm
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I finished writing a novel three months ago. 183 page. I thought I was never going to make it.


Fri May 29, 2009 3:58 am
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(Obviously inspired by the craft of love).

(To a Thomas Edwards in Charlotte, NC, from his friend Henry Wilson in NY)
........................

..
..................

I received your letter some time ago but felt reluctant to reply, please forgive my hesitation. I am alive for the time being but there are some things that I must go into with you, and by the time you are done reading this letter I hope you understand why these might be my last words to anybody. Remember my uncle who disappeared in the deserts of Jaisalmer? I am afraid I have not been as detailed in this situation as I should have been.
It has been a full and very long year that I have been keeping my uncle's very stark recollections on this strange matter from reaching anywhere outside of my own head, and I believe the consequences that I will pay for telling such a thing might prove only to result in my immediate resignation of freedom either way. Though I will go into further details about these certain events, I need you to realize, after this reading, the substantial importance of these next words are for the sake of yourself and for your own advantage:
Be content with the information that you will gain from this letter.

I will try to explain as best as memory will serve me by, again, talking of my late uncle, Howard Anthony Clark. He was an astronomy and transcendental enthusiast who searched deeply into unknown metaphysical knowledge that reached below and above the edge of our world, and these were among the many interests that led him to obscurely distant and often small places around the globe where he would learn things that only he would know of now. I cannot say that I know much about these things or his desire to brave these things because I must admit that talking to him would more than usually bring over a sense of jealousy and irritation in me despite my interest in the things he would say, and I would not pay too much attention sometimes. But, there was this one night that he came to me before he disappeared back into the deserts in Jaiselmer and before setting out to journey through what he called “nature’s seldom inquired and un-reached” which now bears some agitating irony on his disappearance.
As I have said, he came to my house before his disappearance, and upon his arrival, he began to knock loudly and consistently on my door. I was not expecting any company especially at such a late hour (though the time specifically escapes my thoughts) so before I went to expect my anxious visitor at the door I made sure to bring with me one of the stokers near my fireplace in the living room for any useful purposes it might have served at that time. But by the time I got to the door I heard a familiar voice call me from the other side of it, I dropped the stoker as I realized who it was, and walked relieved to the door. Howard was standing in front of the house shivering badly, and as soon as I opened the door enough he rushed inside. From the dirt on his clothes, I could tell that he had not changed what he wore in awhile, and I believe he had not bathed for a good enough time.
I lead him into the living room and he took a seat on my couch after tending to the fireplace, as he must have been cold from being outside at night so long in the middle of December. I went off to get him something hot to drink and took a seat next to him and I let him know that I was all ears.
He looked nervous as he was about to talk to me, but, after a few shaky sips, he began to talk. He started by telling me that he would trust me with some sort of knowledge that he thought only I would be able to understand as truth. He probably knew this from past conversations that we use to have of opening up the secrets of space and dark matter and of the possibilities of ancient underwater sunken civilizations and our own speculations. Those were mostly friendly concepts we built upon whenever our minds ran away with such thoughts, as I was able to find a way to be comfortable around him.
Anyway, after some minor words, he began to tell of the reason he came over; he came to talk about his memories of his arrival to a far away desert in India, which, according to him no one other than me, him, and some people who he talked with in India knew about.
I would not have known of any long visits he might have made in that time, and I had some doubts about this. It was not a surprising thought that Howard might have been exaggerating the truth about some places he has been and some things he has seen, and he must have known my doubt, as he would often cut in the middle of speech to reassure me that he was telling “god’s honest truth”. However, I think my doubt was the cause of other things not exactly related to thoughts of logic and reality or Howard's reputation for stretching truth past its limits.
As he continued to talk, he excitedly began to rant. He spoke quickly about a venture inside of a secret underground pathway blocked by an akashic piece of gigantic stone, and massive amounts of sand near the Golden City of Jaiselmer in India. Moreover, if revealed through the way of an old esoteric spell, it would lead to many sectioned chambers that have became sealed by very strange looking idols, and there would be occult worship of odd deities that would be practiced by the sluggish inhuman elder natives.
He anxiously described to me the events that had happened to him after a night of ordeal and searching, and he seemed very open about the things he said. I think it was a way for him to keep himself from going mad by letting all of what had happened build up inside of him. As we were sitting in the living room on my couch and after some more refreshments, he began to talk frantically more on what happened as he was in the middle of that desert in Jaiselmer India:

“It was there, I swear it on ever inch of my being, and it was right in front of me! There in the middle of that dreadful desert under nightfall and after endless searching and almost dying from my thirst and lack of sleep, just as I have read from the Precambrian texts of the Drymnoire; It was a massive monolithic structure just as described in the old ghoulish folklore among those lowly natives! The thing formed was horribly non-euclidean, a rhombohedra that curved backwards with a height that made it curve through the clouds. I was not able to understand the shape at first, my mind became hazy and began making me see the thing as odd spherical truncated shapes before I became dizzy and nearly lost my grip on consciousness. I cannot tell you how high it was, but I can tell you that I could not possibly measure its height especially at the almost hyperbolic design it was. Henry, what I found more confusing about this strange encounter at first glance was that this rock is a marble-like substance. It was silver crystalline but it looked golden from the reflection of the sun and the sands around it…how, in the deepest reaches of this wretched place, did any mortal man make an infinitely tall monolith out of this material at the furthermost reaches of a dry desert? No…it must have been my mind in a severe weakened state, it simply must have been! What other explanation can this possibly be? …This is what I thought until I walked up to the structure…and touched it. This was too real, felt too real…a perfectly smooth and huge piece of stone with no ridges or outlines to suggest any type of mortal architect. Nevertheless, no, I could not have been too sure just yet. I had to make sure this was indeed what I have read of, the entrance to a truly under-desert abandoned and forbidden place of the most odd and daemonic worship. I know this is all strange, but I assure you honestly, this is all true and very real Henry…though, I hesitate to tell you too much right now, I have come a long way and I feel that I might need some rest. If it’s alright with you I’d like to sleep and calm my senses, but I assure you, I’ll have plenty more to tell you in tomorrow’s wake…such pernicious things, Henry, I…I must sleep.”

I agreed and, as an act of kindness, I tried to get him to sleep on my bed, it seemed like he needed a comfortable setting more than I needed at that moment. When I brought up the suggestion to him, he began to tell me that he did not want to become a burden on me. Moreover, after verbally fighting for a few minutes about it he ended up sleeping on my living room couch for the night, though from the same worried and sleepless face my guest had the next morning I doubt he had much sleep at all…
I must say that what little he said to me that night may have been a bit odd to you, but somehow in my own curious mind none of it seemed farfetched at all. It surely could not have been possible: “an infinitely tall monolith at the furthermost reaches of a dry desert” which has no mortal creator since it was, as he said, a single gigantic creation, seemed not possible at all. I mean, the many physical reasons for this to be extremely unlikely is overwhelming, but still somehow this all did not make out to be a lie to me, at all, one way or the other I believed he saw this. After that night (I was too excruciatingly anxious to hear what more could have been after such a find to sleep) I met back up with my uncle on the couch as he was drinking a cup of herbal tea I made beforehand for him. Soon after he took a few sips of it, he began speaking again as if time had not passed at all:

“As I’ve said Henry, I had to be sure that this was the real thing despite how painfully obvious it might have been. You see, according to what I have read about, there was a symbol on the front on the monolith that was carved by some cosmic force in the time of the structures creation. The sight of which is hard to explain…it is a symbol with no form, no language, and is invisible, yet when your eyes look upon where it is placed the symbol becomes carved into your memory in the time that you are near the monolith. Therefore, I started circling the thing, looking from the bottom to all the way up as far as I can see until after a few times around I saw it. It came like a lightening shock, for a split second my mind flashed a very sharp light that showed me the monoliths secrets of the past and present, and I think the future...”

At this point, he began in a frightful hesitation as if he knew some secret, and I fear that whatever it was might have overtaken him and the course of this conversation if he said anything about it. Although my curiosity was being hugely satisfied at this point I did not pressure him to go any forward about it, and he went on –

“I simply just can not tell you…of what I saw…those maddening large and hollow bellows I heard…No, but Henry, the myths were all proving to be very real right in front of my eyes! Nevertheless, yes, I saw the glyph, or at least my mind noticed it…and I saw the mark that it left, some sign that would suggest the work of the devil if there ever were one! However, I did not have to try to speak the sign.
I forgot to mention to you something earlier, when I read and heard of the myths the word “bloodline” came up frequently. Apparently, a bloodline related to reptilian and eldritch beings from far ago in Mayan lands, with some ulterior motive, self-appointed themselves as hierarch over most civilizations. And, before they died out (for reasons up for speculation) some of them mated with the humans as to continue on their blood…and it’s said that all the things that I’ve seen can only be seen by the beings whose veins run rampant with it. However, I will leave that for you to think about…
After I saw those visions flashing before me in that split second, I started to feel the earth rumble and I heard things that I can only describe as the land sinking into itself. The quake was strong enough to knock me off balance, and while I was on the ground in a panic I noticed that the sand in front of the monolith was being sunken slowly below it as if it was being pushed by some otherworldly force away from itself into the sand each other way.
I had to run away from the area of the sinking sand, as the fall would have killed me at the close distance I was standing at the expanding pit. After a few moments of this I noticed that under the sand that just washed away was a huge dark gray spiral staircase, it was extremely too large to have been made for humans or even by humans but for something the size of a giant, and after I was able to see the pathway entirely the quake abruptly stopped. The way inside lead into what looked like pitch black nothing at first, but soon revealed by very dim lights from inside it to be some kind of chasm monastery. The light that I saw illuminating from out of the thing did not look like a lit fire or that of some electric mechanism (both of these things surely couldn’t survive under this anyhow), it was just a faint scintillate. It reminded me of something like a part of the moons faint shine somehow trapped into a secreted underway passage. I still cannot believe that I actually walked down into it Henry, but something was pulling me, as if calling me and beckoning me, to come inside and greet it. I was not going to miss this chance to see a part of our past.
I stepped down slowly and cautiously into the pit, making every move a smart one, and trying not to move faster than my sight saw in the darkness around me. Moreover, as far as I looked in front of me there were no shining rays to suggest a base of the very dim light around me and it was as if the faint light was swirling and circling, like flows of energy surrounding the place. From what I saw I was merely walking inside of a hallway, the walls were dirty and cracked sandstone most of the time besides some odd circular blackish marks on some parts, and the sandy floor felt sort of hollow and watery almost.
As I walked, I kept stepping on depressions in the ground that made me feel as if I was walking on rubber though it was too dark to tell what it was either way really. I also could not escape from this growing paranoia that kept creeping on my mind as if something were following me, I know something was there…I think I even heard it a few times…organic gurgling and coughing noises…though, I never saw a living thing down there at this point.
After walking for what seemed like hours I saw the hallways end, but all I saw was a void separating the stones and floor from absolute nothing…just empty black space. I walked closer to it wondering if this was the end of my searches, maybe so much time passing left the place weakened and the surface collapsed onto it, but there were no ruins…just empty space. I did not know what to think truthfully as I got closer and closer to the edge of the void, and when I had arrived I did not dare go further. When I looked down into it I saw abysmal darkness, and from all directions was the same. However, after awhile I kept getting the urge to move forward, a force was pushing me, urging me to walk on. To this day, I cannot clearly explain what possessed me to take a chance to walk on what seemed like nothing, but I did. And with that first step I realized I was still on solid matter and still standing….and after a few steps into it, I swear to you, a flash of golden light struck throughout the whole of the gigantic monastery though there was no place for this light to come from, or at least I didn’t see it! There in front of me was a very long corridor with doors and openings on each side though I couldn’t notice it just then as my fixation was on the room that I stepped into between that corridor and the hallway I walked passed. The space around me was magnificent, almost new; my fear became overtaken by the marvel of such a place revealed to me, and by a familiar energy at that.
This place…it seemed that the whole of it was something like the inside of a massive pyramid. Everything there looked as if something built it out of strange and brilliant gold and orange glass that I think would nearly blind its occupants if the sun entered far enough to reflect off them. The walls were carved with images of cosmic and terrible things and words that must have been imprinted by beings of a very long ago past, and in front of me were two columns of stone pillars placed in a straight perpendicular line in-between each wall separating the chambers. The circling and dancing lights were still around me, only a dark greenish color that I could barely notice.
It was too great to believe, and it felt like I was gazing on a part of my past and myself. Despite the strangeness of this all, I smiled...until I saw what stood on the far left and right sides of the walls in-between the pillars.
I saw those idols…none of it were as terrible and otherworldly as those things, those accursed objects that nearly brought my consciousness and sanity into a considerable question with just the sight of them! Describing them I think would be near impossible, for some things I saw surely cannot have a name or word in the human vocabulary. Nevertheless, of these things I will do my best to explain: there was a spherical and bubbly form atop a blackened and dirty altar. The pompous form suggested a continuous growth of the demonic deity, and from below, it raised something close to looking like hairy cone-shaped arms or tentacles. Almost twelve of them grew higher than the “body” and many others squirmed below it, only each one had a tunnel-like entering like a vacuum mechanism. What made it worse is
I believe they were moving...
I did not go near any of them, looking at them any longer would have brought me to deliria I think, and my paranoia came back tenfold…but this was not the only thing at all. From the many rooms down the corridor ahead I heard noises, more alien gurgling and coughing from each side, I swear, I heard faint squirming sounds dragging themselves on the floor inside of each one, what hell lay there!? Moreover, the odor started soon after hearing the sounds. I could not tell you how repulsive it was, but it had swept over me in an instant and nearly knocked me away from my senses. It was the smell of decaying flesh, also a strong ocean breeze smell..., and I started to notice that the walls and ceiling around me began to erode by some dull colored slime; it looked like massive amounts of a type of annelid slim maybe. However, I did not dare to go further, and I ran out with many insane images going through my mind. I have not felt such pernicious rising before, such an insane awakening of ancient knowledge. I feel my stomach turn inside out each time I think of it and of those strange words that I saw imprinted on the altar below it. I assume it is some alien phrase, but something I will not soon have myself forget. I believe I know the secrets of this demon phrase…I am going back there soon, even now that strong urge to move forward into it has not left me. Something is still calling me from deep into that passageway, things not from this world, but something that runs through my veins, calling me home…”


About the phrase he spoke of, he was not about to speak the words as he said there was no way to properly say it in it’s correct form, so he asked for a pen and piece of paper which I hurriedly looked for. When I found the materials, I brought them to him. He then took the pen and paper and then wrote upon the paper a strange mixture of, almost alchemical, letters that has never left my memory since seeing its formula. It has appeared in many of the following nights that I had, in many following nightmares and visions that plaque me. I usually see it inside of a deceased Earth, or another planet, where the very air oozes with tar like substance, and the entirety of the lands pulses as if hit periodically by a huge, utterly beyond reason, cosmic entity that reverses gravity on the planet and drops it on back to it, what a thing to dream of. Nevertheless, the words that plague me even now, the words that, again, lead late Howard to chasms far unknown to the surface, when I looked at the paper from his shaking hands it read as the following: "A’gzag’nhoth’Byhaust’Ki."

Then, when he gave me the note, he looked at me piercingly in the eyes with a brooding look on his face and muttered:
"I...I have to go now. Good bye dear boy, take care."

He left my house with a strange wobbly walk, and his legs were starting to look limp. As he silently walked out of my door, closing it behind him after taking a last unfamiliar look at me, I went to inspect him out of my front window. Strange thing is it seemed like he vanished out of thin air, because I did not see any trace of Howard anywhere.


Wed Jun 17, 2009 5:46 pm
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Night falls onto us as an embarrassed shade
Hiding the mistakes reflected by the sun
Sinking into our homes
The cold all our souls sung
And too, I close my eyes embarrassed
Afraid to see what the light has shone
Evil and corruption and hate
By your masters sown
And dare I open my eyes to see
Evil and corruption and hate is all that will be

I wish to walk among my kind
Blind of physical sight
So, to my kind among the light
I wish them to see
How dark their light can truly be

And walk upon I too, herded Sheppard
To see a man blind
Who can see with eyes closed
And see a sight from which you were robbed
With eyes disclosed
From a deal from which your soul was sold

And forward -
You will see evil, corruption, and hate
And illusions of evil, corruption, and hate
Brought to steed by the false illuminated
Secret society agendas are propagated
Story telling media whores congratulated
Racism and sexism by the same whores instigated
Reminding you day by the hour that you are feeble
“There is no conspiracy” agreed by your average corner sheep people

Can you blame me to be
Too embarrassed to walk beside you with eyes thinking they can see
When you are blind to all that the sun has shown
And when you still cannot see
How dark your light can truly be?


Sun Aug 16, 2009 7:26 pm
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Nice. :)

Quote:
Untitled:

My eyes are like mirrors
You see what you want
You believe what you will
My eyes are like mirrors
Empty and silent
My eyes are like mirrors

You know what you wish
You found what you sought
A step ahead of yourself
I see you falling behind
You found what you sought
You know what you wish

Empty and silent
The unrestricted power of your voice
Declarative and proud
Empty and silent
The restricted power of your being
whispering


Wed Sep 16, 2009 10:08 pm
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Posts: 20
Location: In Grave
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Your Stinky Hands

Im sleeping in a room, Im alive or dead , I dont know
Is it my soul or ashes who's returning whit a storm,
but your smile calls a wind who blows all away agan
I only hear you saying:'' Dont touch me whit your stinky hands''

Im looking to the wall, I dont know if Im try to fall in sleep or fade away
Im in a dream now, I dont know if Im going up or falling down
Did I reach a sky or hit a ground, I only remeber
I only hear you saying:'' Dont touch me whit your stinky hands''

I dont remeber if I shoot to stars or moon
In this place nobody cares if you eat whit your hands or silver spoon
I dont know if I dance like king or fool
I only hear you saying:'' Dont touch me whit your stinky hands''

I dont know what Im looking for , is it space or is it time
I dont know what hepend whit all friends what I once knew
I dont know if I need stay alive anylonger, because
I only hear you saying:'' Dont touch me whit your stinky hands''

_________________
Life is crystal mascarade


Sat Feb 25, 2012 1:45 pm
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Posts: 20
Location: In Grave
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My Dying Lungs

In my dying lungs
I hear a eternal growls
and silance what is so painful
someone braking out
whit a single breath what is killing me
not a single gram of nicotine
but destiny blows cancer winds
deeper down, deeper down
in every hert beats
life swallow last minutes
in my dying lung

_________________
Life is crystal mascarade


Sat Feb 25, 2012 1:46 pm
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Joined: Wed May 23, 2012 12:25 am
Posts: 34
Location: United States
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Post Re: Your writing

Battered Remains

All the piles that I see
All the piles are with in my reach
My childish desires put to rest
Let it loose inside my head
I want to touch your battered remains
I wonder how her blood smells today
Before the lovely maggots consume your flesh
Let me sketch your silhouette


Wed May 23, 2012 2:25 am
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