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I'll hold my eyes shut

Please wire my soul to the ground where evenings darckness screatches

Tell me about the hunched old man you helped, walked to the noose

His tears ran down your cheeks

Silent prayers sprayed your unmoving lips

He said I love you slightly when the thirteen rings took him

and then I watched you say from behind faces made of black

Open my soul

Blend the casket in colors

Whispered it back to his father.



____________________________________

If you don't get it, it's about a man in the "Witching Years" having to hang his father for the accusations of being a witch/warlock. Now the sons died and he has to explain to another soul what the worse thing he did while being alive.

This is not from a documentation; it's my own words. I was just sitting around a bunch of old people when i wrote it is all. Strange as that is.

Prism of sacrificed deceat

Mothed with callused burgandy lashes

In hope to find the distance

That could never get bigger than what I create

So how would I fumble at the podeum

And give all the wisdom

That I find faltering to your ears

When even yourself does not believe

In your own words of chaos

Magnituded by the storm inside

Thriving to break the chains

That keeps you held

Hiding behind the serindipity that reins

I must crush the threshold you once passed

Where I may keep my soul

From your elegant hands

And fanged teeth

So that I may regain my conscious worlds

Colliding together so that I may escape

A whole you to be a sliver of me



I wadger my eyes to open every day in a new hope

So that I may crumble the moment I move

Into dust that blows away

At the sound of a voice

To hide amongst the crevises of your tiles

And shake the hate

Sell the choices of having a soul

In order to never again be the "mark"

How dare you...

...How dare I trust you....

Burnt should have been my eyes

Caked in asphault for looking back at you.

There Is a man with his head in half;

I can see his scribbled brain like fruit;

A murderer, a rapist, a dark mask in handsome light;

Murderer? Yes, a murderer of youngs and hopes.



The first notch on his victory list:

Physically willing to rip apart the clothes,

To shred thier dignity;

While he enters them in each way.



Please don't!

I cover my ears as he walks to her;

There is nothing I can do from my chains;

She is locked on a bed;

I am on the floor with thick chains on my hands,

Around my neck, holing me in my place.



The second notch is mind manipulation with magic:

Each thing they see is to drive them mad;

Who is on top of them and who is hurting them?

Are they the same person?

Are they different?



I scream my cries as if I could be heard;

I know it's just my words bouncing off the walls;

No one can hear me-

Can she?



The third is thier soul hanging up in the closet;

Like a wardrobe for him;

He threads his life into thier soul,

Devouring it with trickery;

God, hang on, sweety...



My tears are fierce;

I cannot help her out of reach;

And my eyes are swollen shut;

My world is crashing down with her screams;

Please don't! Oh, God!

The chains wrap around me,

Though little comfort they can give;

Another life I could not save.

What blue little pills these are;

So small-

So drawn out like the bad guys;

Where they take me is where I need to be;

Otherwise it's hours of pain;

Thinking about things,

The thougts that hurt me so badly.



Keep me safe-

Hold me down so that I may not rise;

To ripen in the dawns lights;

Come cover me with the nessicary dew;

This is when I laughed yesterday;

Completely mad from deprevation;

Say the voices sing,

Right words in cause.



Seep through me...

My angels cradle me dead;

Limp in the truce with hate;

Compelled to slash at the ordinary spurrs;

Hold me by the hair before you cut my head;

Drown my body in the slate,

Voberse with my soul;

Tell me the accurate toll.



Temperature related submission;

Heated in ravish dreams;

To kill me every other step;

Cutting me at the tendons to keep me here;

Where would I go if I cannot move?

Pour me into a little cup-

Oh, little blue pills!

Every wish you've not granted;

Only the ones where I have died...



Give me the blade:

I promise to do what I've said I would;

Say you love me when I cannot gasp,

In the company of sheets and chosen covers;

You are the throat squeezing hand,

Wrapping tighter and leaving me at the murcy of comers;

I cannot promise myself a thing;

When I cannot give my soul a hymn.



I've dreamt of a conqubine,

A serpent. A soul. A torch in the dark;

Salivitating for warm eyes and casket roses;

Drown me at the base of the mountain,

Where my dreams have made me the survivor-

And the murderer.

by Edgar Allan Poe



Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -

Only this, and nothing more.'



Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -

Nameless here for evermore.



And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -

This it is, and nothing more,'



Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -

Darkness there, and nothing more.



Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'

Merely this and nothing more.



Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -

'Tis the wind and nothing more!'



Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.



Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'



Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -

Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as `Nevermore.'



But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -

Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -

On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'

Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'



Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -

Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore

Of "Never-nevermore."'



But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -

What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'



This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!



Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee

Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'



`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -

On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -

Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'



`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'



`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -

`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'



And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted - nevermore!

These lyrics are how I feel today





Dead Boy's Poem





Born from silence, silence full of it

A perfect concert my best friend

So much to live for, so much to die for

If only my heart had a home



Sing what you can't say

Forget what you can't play

Hasten to drown into beautiful eyes

Walk within my poetry, this dying music

- My loveletter to nobody



Never sigh for better world

It's already composed, played and told

Every thought the music I write

Everything a wish for the night



Wrote for the eclipse, wrote for the virgin

Died for the beauty the one in the garden

Created a kingdom, reached for the wisdom

Failed in becoming a god



Never sigh for better world

It's already composed, played and told

Every thought the music I write

Everything a wish for the night



"If you read this line, remember not the hand that wrote it

Remember only the verse, songmaker's cry the one without tears

For I've given this its strength and it has become my only strength.

Comforting home, mother's lap, chance for immortality

Where being wanted became a thrill I never knew

The sweet piano writing down my life"



"Teach me passion for I fear it's gone

Show me love, hold the lorn

So much more I wanted to give to the ones who love me

I'm sorry

Time will tell [this bitter farewell]

I live no more to shame nor me nor you



And you... I wish I didn't feel for you anymore..."



A lonely soul... An ocean soul...









She Is My Sin Lyrics





For whom the gun tolls

For whom the prey weeps

Bow before a war

Call it religion



Some wounds never heal

Some tears never will

Dry for the unkind

Cry for mankind



Even the dead cry

- Their only comfort

Kill your friend, I don`t care

Orchid kids, blinded stare



Need to understand

No need to forgive

No truth no sense left to be followed



"Facing this unbearable fear like meeting an old friend"

"Time to die, poor mates, You made me what I am!"



"In this world of a million religions everyone prays the same way"

"Your praying is in vain It`ll all be over soon"

"Father help me, save me a place by your side!"

"There is no god Our creed is but for ourselves"



"Not a hero unless you die Our species eat the wounded ones"



"Drunk with the blood of your victims

I do feel your pity-wanting pain,

Lust for fame, a deadly game"



"Run away with your impeccable kin!"



"- Good wombs hath borne bad sons..."

Cursing, God, why?

Falling for every lie

Survivors` guilt

In us forevermore



15 candles

Redeemers of this world

Dwell in hypocrisy:

"How were we supposed to know?"



4 pink ones

9 blue ones

2 black ones



- In memory of the Redeemers 20.4.1999



















Switchblade Symphony



Gutter Glitter Lyrics





Pushing, pulling me down again

Pushing, pulling me down again

It's getting bad

I can't breathe

I won't let them in

I won't let them in

Crushing, pushing me down again

Crushing, pushing me down again

I need to get away

Listen now to their hurting words

They rip and they do tear

Pushing out all of my hidden things

Hold my hand and take me there

Sickened eyes seem to mesmerize

They're melting as they glow

Mesmerize your alibis

They're laughing in the snow

People climbing up the walls

Breaking all of my wretched dolls

Fingernails they scratch outside

In the attic is where I'll hide

People climbing up the walls

Breaking all of my wretched dolls

Fingernails they scratch outside

In the attic is where I'll hide

I won't let them in