*a black heart drowning in euphoria*

Dark

Forensics Of

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I’ve been zoning out from reality
Dreaming of dreams that will never be
Life that time has stolen from me
People who I’ll never meet or meet again…

My soul caught fire when I’ve settled for hell
Disguised as this world
Now no man can save me.

I’ve drank a cup of fire
And I’m vomiting cold blades
I keep losing myself in the gloom of these seven shades
The worst truth is that I have never lived a lie
…and I have never lived
and I can’t wish I never did.
Undrown me so I can breathe!

I can’t wish I never lived
even if Truth be this.
When I’m morose I master my expertise
When I’m a master they think I’m diseased, decreased or deceased.
Where then shall I maintain my honesty
If it has no place in every society?
Forensics of a poet’s tragedy

Physics of the bullets of agony
That missed my brains and bludgeoned my heart without touching it…
Gun ballistics and fluid dynamics
When the scenes are so serene
But the past is a redout.

Blackout!

How many times, without dying, did I really end my Life? Did I?
How many crimes of mediocrity have unmade me?
How many dead stars extracted my wishes from my memories?
How many vultures have been staring at me for all eternity
While I lay petrified watching corpses rise as zombies

How deep, severe, have I been severed,
immersed in the wailing of sunshine..
Why was sunshine wailing?
Though I feel like a dancing skeleton with flappy hollow wings
I’m not the ghost that’s pointing at me.

I keep doing the forensics of my own tragedy
When I dream of dreams that will never be
And ache for the Life that probably eludes me…
Until I can see the people who are still really there.
Then,
Like a moon at daytime hiding behind a burst of clouds
I zone back to reality
And see what I can make of me.


Almost The Saddest Poem

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I wanna sing the saddest songs as if I would die…
Pre-death pre-burial requiems…
Lethal notes… Morose words and non-words…
I wanna sing the saddest songs as if I would live forever –
Forever in the dungeons of my benevolence.

And then, I wanna cry my soul out as if I’ve lost God…
But first, wish that I still have a soul for I no longer know…
I wanna run in circles within an untamed wilderness
to feel that I am not lost, in circles, running and wanting untamed…
after my tears have equalled the waves of all the world’s seas
including her… her tsunamis of centuries…

I want to find myself at the edge of a snow-capped mountain and never rest
then scream my frozen lungs out after expelling my guts,
scream until I hear only the sound of my recovered voice –
the one that could read and write sadder than almost the saddest poem…

Distorted and soul-starved,…

What did I say?

Straving for my soul,
I don’t ache to feel a little less alive…
Nor do I merely ache…
My madness does not represent a longing for joy.
Madness sways beyond the barbwires of longings.
Thus, not even a longing for death.
(You don’t need to die to be dead).
My loneliness is not soothed by company.
Loneliness is glory!
My burden blinds with the northern lights best in darnkess.
My passions severe the cosmos with their controlled nonexistence…
There is nothing more worse for me and ill
than the brooding mediocrity when I do not sing when I will.

—–
NOTES:

“Almost the Saddest Poem” is a remake of The Saddest Poem. But herein, the context changes somehow but the end-point remains. How can not being able to sing (no matter how you sound or don’t sound as silence can be music) be so sad? P.S. The titles have nothing to do with the levels of sadness in each of them.


Of Time…

toddlers58

Sometimes,
good intentions without understanding result to worse things.
Sometimes,
it’s better to not understand beings and simply respect feelings.

Ripples of thoughts
of wonders and sorrows
severe his mind gracefully
at the wrong time….

All in non-extremes
beg for attention
when the only Freedom starts with Detention…
Isolation
Seemingly Zombiefication
– A Liberation they know nothing of.

Pink and Green
Images of woe
Images of Joy
Disprove Slumber

-THE DEATH WAS REAL!

It was a nightmare that came before sleep
It was a dream that happened because he awakened…

But now he must awaken again….

There is a pool of woe in the Southeast,
and fish in the cold air up North to the West…
He knows no other waters but woe.

Time stops in this climax of suffering.

The LIFE was real…

Sometimes,
he gets swallowed up in a time machine…
and knows just about too many things…
Sometimes…
he only thought of time…

He cries to sleep,
wakes up the same,
blood flowing through his veins
and outside of them.

Splashes of blood
on this mundane floor
drown him gently
in sweet Sunday gloom.


Beyond the Noise

Zandvoort

There’s no comfort for my chosen solitude
In a crowd where I don’t seem forlorn…
Sunshine’s not my friend in Winter
When my heart and soul breaks torn…
Beyond the noise, although I feel the peace,
I also feel the grimmer breeze…
I’ve tweaked my brains to make myself believe
That I don’t have everything I need…


If Ever Again…

me

Everything is at stake for my soul, and I’d be drawing closer to Hell’s entrapment
and would burn graver enough to give Hell a good name before I reach it,
should I suffer the same horrors over and over again
aside from each one’s aftereffects.
Hell would be stripped off of its place in extremity
and the pain and madness within me shall overthrow it.


How Do You Take A Death?

How do you take a death,
When the weight of its pain
Brings you to your knees
And stabs you repeatedly
As you bleed through most sorrowful tears?

How do you take a death,
When its cold bludgeons you frozen
Makes you crawl to nowhere
In all your disbelief
When you try to justify Life’s loss…

…and find out there’s no Justice…
For an angel born in a new home, Heaven…

Do you question the Lord,
Do you blame Him for the choice of the cause
The mistakes, the circumstances,
The manner of death,
The suffering much less than you now have to endure?

Know there is justice….
For an angel born in a new home, Heaven…

Do not question the Lord…
If not to get answers.
You can not take a death…
Unless it is yours…

And you can live in honor
Of all the good your lost love have done alive
And you can live in respect
To all the wishes of our beloved departed…
Accepting an angel is born
In a better home we call Heaven…


Chambers of the Obsolete III

Originally uploaded and copyrighted in xyldrae.deviantart.com

So dark, the shadows in my eyes
So light, the hell within my burden,
That I may never say good night
In the calming presence of moonlight.

So vast, the barren spaces of my woes
So crowded, the only things that hold
That I may never taste more than defeat
In the cruel chambers of the obsolete.


If Darkness Is So Bad

Originally uploaded and copyrighted with credits for stock usage in xyldrae.deviantart.com and created for the “Scavenger Hunt” contest administered by the Intermediate-Manips group.

If darkness is so bad…
Why do we close our eyes when we pray…
Why as we become deeper
The further our visuals go away…
Is it not dark when we dream
And envision beyond what our eyes behold –
The sights that render us powerless
Against the worthy stories untold…

If darkness is so bad,
I dare you watch the stars in daylight
I dare you love less the sun…
I dare you keep your kisses to your sight
Don’t close your eyes when you make love
Gaze not at the twilight as it goes
Find no beauty in your favorite scenery
And imagine things without their shadows

If darkness is so bad,
What makes Light redeeming?
What heightens touch, what perfects sound
Why eyes are closed when soulfully singing?
If darkness is so bad,
I dare you, wish upon no shooting star
Pray only for what’s delighting.
Keep sane in continuous joys
Blind to the glory of overcoming.



The Roots Of

Weaved by thoughts severed the most
And illest visions for the blind and abled
My heart is forced, caught into the Paradox
Confusing the roots of misdemeanors…
“Love does not take account of a wrong that is suffered.”


Mistaken Angels

Edited lyrics from a Rap Song dedicated to people who talk so highly of love and relationship but would trash up their “loved ones” regardlessly – a combination of parasites and maggots.

Shut yourself up.
Go shoot yourself up.
I’m taking no more…

I’m in the cold
I crash and burn
And I’ve been told
That I can’t turn
In this fast lane
With this cursed brain
So much insane!

I’m crashing,
Solo!
In the background losing halo!
Hating on you pretenders!
Now I’m spitting the truth coz I know –

You were bitching when I was dying
You were mocking when I was grieving
Your offenses are knives all over
They’re stabbing me forever…
Too bad I’ll always remember…

The sun melts
When it touches my tears…
The ocean rages
When it stinks of our fears…
Thunderclouds cheer
The devils up with its roars…
You mistake them for angels
Then you grieve all the more…

That does not sound right
But you make it sound right…

Help me now
Or watch me bow
As you slay me now
I’m praying now
Lord please forgive me…
I never did recover
And I fear this really would never be over!
I’m hating.
I’m shaking.
Devils are lurking
In my black heart
And I can’t prevent
This soul abused,
Accused, confused,
Refused, reduced and aching!
Your existence is so depressing!
My hate is overwhelming!
Anything true eludes me
Smiles and tears alike consume me!
I yearn to stop existing!
Give me that non-existence!
Love tires me just the same…
You can see it in my face –
I’m so tired of this sacrilegious game!

The sun melts
When it touches my tears…
The ocean rages
When it stinks of our fears…
Thunderclouds cheer
The devils up with its roars…
You mistake them for angels
Then you grieve all the more…

That does not sound right
But you make it sound right…


Thousand-Yard Stare

Shed a few shallow tears
and not be tormented…
The saddest eyes are those
that have nothing even just for tears…

Move yourself towards and through heartache
and finally move on again…
The blackest heart can never speak
of love ever again…

Let the world delight upon well-being
and tell yourself you aren’t feasted on…
A soul that has learned the first of its final lessons
Is already just waiting to go home….


Blasphemy Through Silence

Ennui is offspring to a fool and his continuity
They make such a horrid family
Casualty to awareness
Blasphemy through silence.


Three Steps

(A collaboration with Sherylene Dela Cruz)

As the wind blows, my knees weakened
and found myself in prayer.
The elements cast our heads bowed-
celestial inclination
after shrinking’s end
Off to the tunnel of glory
casting away all the fury – Let there be
drought for deep awakening!