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ForceFedFetusFillet's Journal
Poetry
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Ascending Decent.
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February 02, 2008, 02:10:am
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Ravenous thirst.
Bleeding scabs.
Liquid satisfaction.
Repressed anguish.
Screaming quietly.
Torn dreams.
Salvaged hope.
Absent ghost.
Time unbalanced.
Compressed paradijim.
Fear faded.
Night shifted.
Emotion burned.
Become God.
Mood: Sleepy
Music: Invert the virgin - Goatwhore
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A Treasured Failure
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January 30, 2008, 08:41:pm
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Frayed wires, of broken receptors.
Optic nerves without a sight of sentiment.
Defecation of routine.
A new cycle begins.
Alone without light.
Burned, rusted, decrepit alloy.
A tepid whiff of carrion.
Shadows consume.
Valves tighten, gears engage.
Pressure ballast blown.
Machinery in exile.
Barriers crumble, fluid spills out.
Electric lines of vexation.
Eccentric demanufaction.
Corrupting elements with oil.
Restless fervor for the path of deconstruction.
Emotions left for irrevelence.
Scattered fragments of a partitional conscious.
Falling deaf on muted minds.
Mood: Gloomy
Music: Everything Dies - Type O Negative
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Mangled Bloody Carcass Spew
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January 26, 2008, 08:51:am
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Late at night I pass you by,
I get my urges, from my Rye.
I see your home, your all alone.
I use my cell to call your phone.
I know your waiting, so am I.
I just put down a shot of Rye.
You hear my breath breath through the phone,
I know your waiting, all alone.
Through your basement window; creep.
I got my hook, and soon my meat.
I string your up, and beat you down.
Even smack your face off concrete ground.
I take my blade and dig it in.
Watch you dangle, make you spin.
Feel my hatred rise within.
I hack your flesh to tease your kin.
People think I should be killed,
but not untill this city's filled,
With burning hate, and ripping pain,
and holy folk, to flee in flame.
Well you know me, well you think you do.
Mangled Bloody Carcass Spew.
Mood: Meh.
Music: Cannibal Corpse - Fucked With A Knife
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A Defection To Fate
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January 26, 2008, 08:49:am
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Fate crys crimsion, as Nephilim whispers to sealed ears.
The clouds darken, as the myst grows thick.
Thoughts of you sustain, as the scarlet hits the altar.
Demonic bassoons sway the requiem to begin.
Notes and scales, like widows webs, entangle in my head.
Fallen Lust for demonic horns of rapture, and tranquility.
Fear slides in, crowding my thoughts.
Quick to fleet, but lasting a lifetime.
Blade shines blue, like a celestial gem.
Time shifts.
Memory's creep back in to contort my solitude.
Compression and paradigim.
Feeling silly, as I leak my spirit.
Feathers fall from silver lined halo's.
Fires raze all below, but burn from within.
Your picture fades, and hope's still torn.
Cinders and ashes.
The wrath of the Horned.
Surrounded and protected from your guilty graces.
Limited life, and predetermined events.
Control, beyond comprehensional reason.
Eyes open, mysts clear, visions come to pass.
Requiem paused.
Blade glows bright as I see the future clear.
Now is my chance, to be safe, from all your fear.
Mood: Meh.
Music: Helloween - Mirror Mirror
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Necropolis Burning
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January 26, 2008, 08:36:am
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Dementia cast, to the very last.
Apocalyptic fantasies, destruction from the past.
Burning hate, searing pain.
Skinning all the flesh off, and dining on the brain.
Opratic singer, the death bringer.
Decapitate the chosen one, and raise your middle finger.
Gouge his eyes, before he dies.
Your propathetic son of God, was full of fucking lies.
Nothing left, not a trace.
Portal open quickly to take me from this place.
Nothing left, not this time.
A billion fucking demons, just dying to be mine.
Bloody corpses, all around.
A Satanic pentagram embedded in the ground.
Candles lit, it's almost time.
Banished are the holy, it's Satan's time to shine.
In the end, death again.
Trapped in fucking limbo, no hand to you extend.
Cracked earth, unholy birth.
Never had a chance I guess, but for what it's fucking worth.
Flaming lord, enthrusted sword.
Back up on the cross he is, without a spinal cord.
It's time for fun, no point to run
Ashes all that's left of your kingdom fucking come.
Mood: Annoyed
Music: 1349 - Sculptor Of Flesh
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Tower Of Solitude
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January 26, 2008, 08:34:am
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Mistreated past, so glad to forget.
All broken and bruised, with too much regret.
Often alone, although many around.
I stuck to my clouds, and left them all on the ground.
Alone in my tower, I'd contemplate life.
High up above, all their problems, and strife.
The people around, would all look up and stare,
and say to themselves, "He locks himself up there".
Alone I speak to a voice, straight from Heaven.
She's some kind of angel or unholy neden.
I need her voice to get me through days,
when I feel alone, but the tower has ways,
to make one think that they matter less,
but that's not the case, it's only the test.
A test just to see, if your tower will fall,
to crumble your sheild, and expose you to all.
All of the feelings, we all try to hide.
Locked in our towers, high up inside.
There's only one, that I trust to know me,
and when I hear her voice, I finally feel free.
Higher than normal, with my tower below.
When I speak to her it's like time starts to slow.
Time slowing down for her just to say.
I love you baby, so it lasts me all day.
(For Amanda)
Mood: Tranquilized
Music: Type O Negative - Love You To Death
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Sharp And Quick
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January 26, 2008, 08:30:am
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Broken lust for demonic intent.
Unholy voices are ready to vent.
All of their pain and frustration in life.
Making me deal out my death from my scythe.
Blood dripping down from an eager attempt.
Ending your life, one thousand percent.
Watching the blood run out of your case.
As your kicking and screaming and clawing my face.
You cannot defeat me, you just shouldn't try.
Because I am the evil conceiled in your eye.
Mood: Still Annoyed
Music: Type O Negative - Dead Again
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Unchanged
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January 26, 2008, 08:28:am
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Many speak as I barely notice.
Too much static to play attention.
Gears grind with post humous rot.
Scales and lines, comfort in woe.
Forward but subtle.
Expected to care.
Too much dialogue to care to comprehend.
Same version of a new product.
Nothing changes, just a new gloss.
Simplistic challenges, with impossible goals.
Annoyed, yet still patient.
Fallen fervor of faded ferment.
Still unchanged.
Problem wiped slate.
Blood rises up.
Heart begins to beat.
Mind still not working.
Eyes now open, although all seen is black.
Shadows of Lupines, betray my bravery.
Silently consumed by froth fanged beasts.
Happy to rust, saved from this place.
Back to my land, where it all made sense.
Mood: Annoyed
Music: Type O Negative -In Praise Of Bacchus
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