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BLACK_ANGEL_akasha's Journal
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black moths and butterflies
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November 29, 2008, 08:46:pm
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Black moths and butterflies,
hang on stings,
of your dirty lies,
with broken wings,
they fade and die,
crushing my soul,
I am without light.
Now fall into a world where the sea in the sky,
twisted in peril
everything is frail,
for I am lost
without my black moths and butterflies,
they carried me softly through your fracture mind,
into the unknown,
blind, you're blind!
Mood: self destructive
Music: dark funeral
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my secret: Dirty water
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November 17, 2008, 07:08:pm
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Water in the sink,
floating heart of a pig,
tears to my reflection,
a whirlpool eating sin.
Blood fuels my honour,
to the victims grin,
I taste a longing to breath,
water in the sink.
Eyes stare up at me,
red skies delight,
a rhymic deathly song to sing,
as I drown them from life.
Still water in the sink,
victim soaks my skin,
tears to my reflection,
now I've almost reached the brink.
Blood in the sink,
blood in the sink,
hands choking utterance,
named I am the devil's sin.
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The hanging tree
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November 17, 2008, 06:59:pm
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Save me from the hanging tree,
bewitched I am,
with Satan's greed.
Disfigured, now my heart lyes cold,
twisted fingers of thorns
scrape at my skin,
blind my eyes with sin,
till all that's left is a perfect image of you.
Hanging tree,
my hanging tree,
tormenting me with her virgin tears,
too numb from death,
throughout the years.
Now screaming at the decaying priest,
shouting God's word,
and you just watch as I melt in pain.
Abort their beliefs and turn away,
as their fingers of thorns
protrude through my spine,
laughter so divine,
tearing at my skin,
till all that's left is a perfect image of you.
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some crap poem
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November 17, 2008, 06:47:pm
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With blackened eyes
I'm blind and sick,
within the dankness,
I reside with him.
A demon of my pleasures,
a demon of dispersed hope,
a creature of all discomfort,
bent and broke.
I listened to his serpent tongue,
now twisting inside my gut,
I reached for mother
but now I'm alone,
with this creature of discomfort,
rotting and cold.
Mood: crap
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Grave yard trees
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November 07, 2008, 05:23:pm
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Withering leaves fade with autumn's kiss,
dancing with skeletol veins,
pulsing with dying life.
The trees stand like naked soliders
against the coldness to come,
Only I ever noticed their whispered secrets,
the haunting voices that flows throught their branches.
Now watching seasons changing,
time and life slip passed,
but I remain the same.
Still I walk through the woods,
amongst all those lost,
amongst all those lies.
Now as spring draws in,
the secrets are hidden once again,
by mother natures leaves of deception
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