Black CitadelOn the shimmering hilltop,Bathed by shadowed, silver-thorns,Under light of crystal moon.In the mist of heart-insanity,Lay a crimson-thorn enchanted,Stronghold of black diamond.Keeper of secrets, too dark to praise,Too black a mortal mouth to utter,Too unhinging of flames of past.Whispering from her windows gapes,Singing lullabies to the reason,Nymphs of night with raven hairs.How they stroke the soul in me,How they pet the pain in me,With poison-lyrics chanting.On the fearless face of this world,They curse the gods above,They stain the light that gave them life.Groveling in the ashes of the fields,In the castles gardens full of night-roses,Black petals shiver under their cries.Their blind eyes see only one thing,The curse of their deeds, the sorrow,Of the gaping wounds of the victims.Every single dark sirens note,Every voice of melody raping,Rips the tears from my eyes.For one knows what he has done,What a Muse to these poems he has been,W
Atrium of the soulThe blackness shimmered as if it was aliveThrough the whole space,And the dark forms around.The chill didnt allow it to be freeFrom the Limb in which it was caught,By its own purpose and dark fate.It shimmered, peaceful and evil,Entwining with all the synesthesiaOf the space in which it was stretching,With all its piled malice,And that cold, disgusting stench of smoke,Which now could be grossly felt.Even the ether itself criedUnder this gruesome surrounding.Everything smells like this, when it burns-out!
Fallen oneFrom Grace I fell,Blessed by black,Dressed in wreck.In the mountain of my soul,In the sepulcher of my pearl,Of this obsidian pile,In the core I am trapped.My life caught up with me,And I weep and I shriek in vain,From the dark crystals,In which imbibed,For eternity I am.My arms and legs,Are useless now.Only what lays in my head,Now matters for life.On my chest of ancient,I have held a lotus blossom,And nurtured it with art,From the tombs of my heart.Now I drown myself in tears,Unable to move and create it again,So role up repented I have ever fell,from the World into blessed Heaven.
Living skinHe walked the streets in the night,Wearing an ebony mask on his face,In a disgusting, horrid expression.He pulled a bloody knife, tainted with evil,Killing everyone he could get his hands on,In the narrow, foggy allies of the city.But, it was never easy.Every new pull was exhausting,Because everyone ran too fast, all feared him.Whenever someone saw him from afar,They also noticed the horrifying mask,And their fear ripped the veins running.All of them noticed it too soon,Everyone managed to escape because of the mask,And it was hard, hard to catch and kill them.Once, he took off the mask from the face,He detached and threw it in the river.Underneath it, he had a normal, human expression.With just his next footstep he saw the difference.The man passing did not notice him, did not separate him,And paced on toward, to his doom...He killed him, he killed him mercilessly stabbing,And while the man was bleeding, he saw his expression:A face questioning, just a blunt, wo
Neclace of tearsBetween a circle of ancient stones,Seated under starlit skies,Three pilgrims of the time,Under graying capes of dust,Sing poems to the flames.As the first one ends,So the next one starts,Aligning pearls under waves,Under edges of ether-flames,Like poison-ivies of starlit skies.One from other, more grievous,One from all the others deeper,Like lead-drops down the throat,Upwards the chants align,Pouring through the rippling winds.As the first one ends,So the next one starts,To coddle fierce vultures,To break the flames with pearls,By shining necklace-tears.Under starlit skies they flow,Front the altar of sadness they pride,Stringing and the times aligning,For stone-shut words unbroken,By tender tear outshined.
Small cirus of serenityOver the red, wooden bed where I slept since I was little,On the ceiling of withered, scratched and yellowed lime,I watched the crumbled pieces, as I did frequently.The cracks were my only fun during the summers.I often watched the old fox and chariot archer,As they chased forever in their mangled poses,With wide legs and short limbs, in odd forms,In their grey silhouettes of old cement.When I was nervous or happy, I watched them,How they always did the same, without change.They were never nervous or happy.They were always themselves, same and unique.Once, another piece of lime broke-off beside them.Now, a small caravan joined the chase.It came out of nowhere, entered the circle, and stayed.I imagined a small circus that played and lived somewhere.Time passed, and a new layer of lime covered them.Now, no one could see them, they were invisible for all,But I saw them still, I imagined them every night,And they lived again and chased in circles.I moved out of the coun
StarfallFrom an equal equality,She began to harvest me,Then threw me away,To burn me on the fire,Of my own flesh,And seed it a thousand fold.Then she heard me,And sent her tears,Like a Rain of Stars.Within the seven craters,Of the silver comets,On her cry I spread.In their blue depths,I built the bases to the pillars,Of my black Necropolis.