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Rose-Macabre's Journal
.:Rose from the ashes (we all fall down...):.
The way I am is not something that you can learn. Many try to replicate me, but will Never be able to duplicate me. If, for some reason, you are offended by my blatant truth- then you are nothing but just another narrow minded sheep running with the crowd. If you can calmly debate with me, you should be proud. You should use your knowledge and scream it out loud. Knowledge is power. Only with truth will we win the fight. Fact is; the worst monsters don't come out at night.
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.:We are Blind:.
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November 05, 2008, 09:00:pm
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Let me melt your heart
Kiss me in the dark
Look at me with your soul
and tell me the truth I wish to behold
Let me move through you
Feel my love and grow
find me waiting for you here
I long for your cold touch
I see you for what you are
change if you please
I don't want to leave
You're what I'm wishing for
Hold me ever so close
feel my heart melt yours
let us meld together
yet stay ourselves
the curve of your face
my favorite memory
we gave each other strength
let me help set you free
let us find freedom
we were bound by our marks
let us be together
enveloped in the dark
I don't want to cry any more
find me waiting for you always
I can't stop trying
let me spend forever with you
see the future in my eyes
know this to be true
kiss me gently one more time
watch my heart save you
Mood: Nostalgic
Music: Three Days Grace
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Wonderland chronicles #1
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July 24, 2008, 10:05:pm
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+Wonderland Boundaries+
If you look, very hard
you'll find me in a kind of yard
a forest, trees, fungi too
even the occasional clockwork shrew
In my world, things are much stranger
the floor is sequenced into checkers
one end houses the Queen of Heart's palace,
and the other's mine, of course, not alice's.
My sky sits purple, it is plain
that with all the mirrors, I am vain,
but in the end, they're really just portals
to that wonderful world where I am immortal
where the grass is black, and the trees are green
not everything has to be as it seems
mr white rabbit is not so very white
in fact, he is brown, and glows green in the night
but what is night, you ask, if the day is purple?
and night is of course just a revolution of a circle
Night is gray, unlike the clouds in the sky,
sometimes it is white, Or even black, I wonder why.
wonderland has nothing on me
my suits of cards get along in threes
I am the queen of spades, you see,
no other around outside is quite like me.
I am the oddity of these parts,
they don't know about the red rain, or the performing arts
you see, I am Rose, and they follow me
I am in control of all of this
just wait and see
I have not defeated the queen of Hearts,
She controls the other half, and there,
there is only dark.
Mood: tired
Music: Scream by Starkillers
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.:The Death of Countess Brittany:.
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July 03, 2008, 11:07:pm
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Childlike dreaded fascination,
pallored white in the glittering mortality of her beauty,
recanting memory after memory,
obvious was stretched across her blended face
pale light shades of white streaked down...
Through the blood,
the rain drips upon her once rosy lips.
the taste of crimson squirming alive
the guilt traced upon this phase of her life
counting away the wasted time
Passion exceeded among the actions of a cannibal
the smell shifts, and turns the acid inside.
Cold dead face, girl turned corpse like ice.
it's faded all of her days,
As the carcass rots away,
the clouds silvered among the sky,
as rain washes away the way she died.
the clouds will soon turn everything gray
it's a scarlet holiday for suffering decay.
Gore is painted on the concrete floor,
There was a sense of a passing dream,
as it was ripped apart from the seams,
the death had crawled all over her
Her sense of fate was gone much sooner
with anatomy burned and broken,
skin tattered and her last words unspoken
The poison shifted through her veins,
she loved the taste but felt the shame.
Disfigured love joins with the craving of sex,
A longing unknown to all of them.
Lust cut out her heart, and nailed beside-
paralyzed, burning, and dead inside.
smiles did not color her wasted last day,
Tarnished, her soul scrapes at the bars on the cage,
twisting, grasping, all about her,
the corpses rise and close in,
They are only judging her sins.
There is no one to hear the sounds
Sparks trip, as her house burns down.
she screams, knowing, waiting for more.
her corpse waiting, quivers on the floor-
insinuates her love one last time
and hopes that this hell is only in her mind.
'I love you' ends her with a murder and death,
Buried inside a horrible mess
Sun shining past the graveyard shades
as for the faithful light of day
Nothing could have saved her except-
A little more love
and a lot less regret.
Mood: Thirsty as fuck for what else but----
Music: Disturbed
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sodden ruffles and dried blood
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June 06, 2008, 02:23:am
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I am cold.
It's normal, cold to the touch.
my skin has been like ice ever since I can remember.
How I long for a real meal;
a real taste
a real drink
a real temporary end to this hunger
is it possible for me to completely convert to energy?
I wish it so;
But this crimson drug is too alluring
it's too powerful, too sating, too beautiful,
to give it up.
it's grip on me is never ending
the constant hunger and thirst is horrible.
I must become stronger.
or else no one will want me.
no one will have use for me.
no one will take me seriously.
I need either a constant supply, or a way to quit this addiction.
I need solace.
and in the morn, I shall finally sleep.
<3
Rose
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the rule of broken toys and broken boys
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March 26, 2008, 01:12:am
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Imagine; all is broken
when nothing is new, and all has been done before
uniquity is, in it of itself, seemingly impossible.
truth is, the lives we live in the corporate media are nothing but LIES
but they'll deny it, because they want our souls.
they're meant to ensnare us, compare us, and bring us to despair, only then are we OWNED.
addiction to pharmacuticals, ciggaretts, movies, make-up, clothes, junk food, television, perfection, indirection, corporations, masturbation, no elation, segregation, molestation, automobiles, gasoline, violence, money money money, and sex sex sex.
where does it end?
in the end, when all is gone, are all uneeded items lost?
batteries, advertisments, congregations, heaven and hell, what to sell, making cash, what to stash, jaded existance, human arrogance, boys and girls, shiny and new, what to do, polloution, evolution, persecution, prostitution, absolution, contribution, distribution, execution, money money money, and sex sex sex.
I could go on forever, but my anger does not permit me to.
but who am I?
someone who doesn't matter, someone who rants and raves and yet cannot do anything about it.
I am Rose, the goddess of all that is broken, and I am a hypocrite.
get over it. :>
Mood: enigmatic
Music: Emilie Autumn
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