Like rippled pinholes in our vast imaginations.
The great sundry of stars devote their loyalty and shine bright like fuddled gods, awaiting their commands from the general of the night.
The Moon, silver and silent, rules the night sky like a great and just tyrant.
Blanketing its aura across the Earths ceiling the moon stands alone and shines on,warding off invaders whom wish to trespass in Earths zone.
Let this be an acknowledgment to the guardian of the night, we are always gazing up into your crippled cratered face.
Forever watching and wondering, to you the moon who stands alone.
-Joe
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
A glimpse into the unkown she offered me
A swallow of ignorance i took
Here she speaks of my last chance
The time to take heed has come and past
Deeper into my own future quarrels we do delve
Where lackluster and sin is all that is found, next to the company of agony and monotony.
So far now ,my future is not looking to bright, nor does it seem to hold much right for us to seek further into it's darkened night.
Her seeing eyes peer into the piercing mirror
A year in my future she observes, while in the present i sit here and wait.
Her tellings ascend rapidly from simple inferences to quaint predictions, and soon followed by ominous details.
I muster my wits to dismiss her claims as silly remiss, but even i must admit that her talents warrant a gift.
WIth only six months left to live
This isnt the best of news
Now we drift back down to generous formalities
here we say our goodbyes. WIth a face of most apprehensiveness, she again warns me of something wicked my way nears.
Six months pass and i must jest
That this damn witch has put me to the test for her own attraction
Looking back at my past actions
I really shouldnt have tempted the fates by making a clambake with such a fake.
However, now, it seems as though her affirmations weren't that crass.
It was a week last, that i first heard of my cancerous news.
-Joe
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
As the winter air begins to summon snow and ice falls from heaven.
Leaves of yellow and orange wither into branches of tree's and withered dreams
The weather is finally taking heed to winters call, as Fall is fast on the descent.
A snowflake falls from above, the intermission of a frozen escapade.
As the cold air fills my tainted lungs. This young soul sits in anticipation. I am once again attune with the icy lust of natures soul.
MY twisted heart now stirs towards a more righteous gear.
A fathers sin once lived, is now forgotten.
This budding cat will take the reigns behind the steeds of change.
I believe i have found the way now.
The light Shines bright.
i just need reach.
Much like you, i am in the same boat of struggling to change my most unknown point.
Life now falls squarely on my mantle.
Where i must piece back my life.
This is now a testament of my last chance.
How good it will be though, regaining my lost strength with so much love abound.
Hope is the word and faith is the way.
guiding me each and every day.
I glance up, every now and then, just to see that divine streetlight shining down on me.
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
I am awoken from a peaceful nap from a gentle knocking at my door. Usually, when i hear a knocking at the door, anxiety and paranoia follows. Today however, i was expecting a strangely peaceful visitor. I do not know many peaceful people, and i am surely not expecting anyone of peaceful importance today, yet, i still expect. After opening my very dirty door i am blinded by a quick invasion of light. My eye's, struggle to focus and simply maintain stability. A brief war ensues between my eyes and brain, but my competence swiftly compensates and forces my still slumbering voice to exert a mannerly greeting. "Hey, there good friend, do i know you?".
The off-street rumble of passing cars is really beginning to rupture my mind at this point. Not only do i have the glaring sunlight to deal with at this moment, but the goddamn roaring gears of the passerby's is really beginning to **** up, what i thought was going to be a groovy interaction.
Although this was all dismayed when my very peculiar visitor mustered his first words..,"Hey Joe, whatya know? Wanna go get a Coke? You know, i couldn't think of anything else to say,so sure is what i bled.. Man, i dont know even this dude and already my spirits are tingling. So, we set off on our quest for a most refreshingly frigid Coke. I must say, as i am walking in this man's grace, Neither time nor space is occupying my mind..,just love and a will to do good is all that i can think. As we are walking i glance on over blatantly ask "Dude...,are you God? " Without even breaking pace the most assuredly replied, "yeah man, I'm God" So, i obviously recanted with,
"you know what, thats really ****ing cool, dude," and God continued the poem, further still. "Yeah, man it is cool..,eh. Just then we reached are spot. A long and slender vending machine lay in front of us. This, however, was no vending machine i was familiar with. It did not have any digital jargon or noisy advertisements painted all over it. Pristine and steel it was, if i punched this f*ck*r it wouldn't dent and pop back. It would most probably stand it's ground and shine on as the sentry it is.I stand aside while God steps up and drops his coin into the red and white vending machine. Not a second later did that guardian machine let loose its grip and give god his nectar. With a flip of the thumb and a crack of the cap God just downed his first sip like a champ.
"oh my ****ing God, THAT was THE SHIT!!!" This was my verbal response to God as i directed my arms towards him in a celebratory motion. I then began break off the ice the had enc God Drops his bottle and finishes it off with an..,"ahhhhhh, THAT was a good f*ck*ng COKE!.
At this point i have almost broken free from the ever chilling encapsulation trap, that God has frozen me in from is Awe inspiring "Ahhhhhh"
So, after i brush the chill off and re-warm myself next to the presence of God, im good as gravy. he then says "Hey Joe go get a coke, they're the coldest round here" I say to god " hey man, can i borrow a coin, cuz all i gots is cash?" and of course God willingly in a jovial manner spits back " Joe, of course you can have a coin my friend". God then flipped five coins my way which all miraculously arched straight down into my pocket.
"GOD DAMN, you the man God, you the man, thanks God..,givin me five and shit." God just gave me a homeboy wink and al was good.
I no longer harbor any feelings of inadequacy, so i step on up to the soda pop machine and drop my holy coin into the circular slot. I pick a pop and pull, EUREKA!!!, i just received a most holy Coke. This must be a first in all of humanity. Can anyone else say that they have had such a holy suds. At any rate i start focusing on drinking this *****. She is slender in shape and chill to touch, just like God promised. The weight was heavy as if this bottle was made of glass. I dont know what to make of it but it wasn't glass, more like crystal and silver. What ever it was it was ****ing memorable for sure. No more time to waste, lets pop this ***** and down it with a Godly chug.
OMFG, that was the most amazing thing i have ever tasted in my feeble meaningless life. Cold chill INEED, my entire chest and throat is expanding thrashing. I feel it coming. oh no. from the bowels of the deep, it's yearning and churning until finally it takes notice of what it is and explodes as a skull shattering BEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLCH!
And HOLY SHIT! damn if i did not shatter my bottle with that earth rattling burp before it hit the ground.
Now there is nothing but silence. I look towards god, with convulsing smirk he begins to clap his hands. and says "Damn Joe, THAT was the shit." In all my brilliance i replied "Yeah, dude...,i know"
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
Last edited by jinXed by JaNx on Aug 9th, 2008 at 03:45 PM
where did she come from?
Why does she stay?
Answers i do not have, only this i do know.
My life has life has changed, my soul tormented.
Faith is always questioned, and she never answers
I turn a cold shoulder on the subject, as she subtly serenades me.
A succubus she be.
this i will never know.
Until my eternal soul is claimed.
Then finally, after i see the face of God, and hear her twisted laughs
I will know i have been swindled by the trickster.
She spits damned lies with her wicked tongue, and hypnotizes me to do the same.
However, now it is to late.
My yearns for redemption have become muffled by the echoing cries of my burning fate.
. Joe,R
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
Come and take my hand
As i invite you to journey with me through my world of twisted enchantment.
we shall leave behind comforts of the daily mundane, and embrace excitements of the ever deepening unknown.
Your security will be abandoned your hopes will be forgotten, and your insecurities will flow.
I know i ask much, but i am here as your companion and guide. I can show you secrets that none have ever known.
So if you are willing, let us go, time is short and opportunity is withering, when the night grows strong and the light becomes dim our path will appear.
It is here, down the twilight paths we shall venture.
As the clamorous confusions of existence are left behind and only certainties remain i will reveal wonders of the old in hopes that you will realize truths of the new.
Darkness engulfs as cries of hopelessness pierce your soul. Lightning of hate strikes in the distance followed by a monsoon of despair. Through the bursts of light you see lost lives siting beside the road.
When i feel your will weaken, i strengthen my grip of reassurance and tell you that this is where indecision leads. don’t regret what never was by not daring to look at what can be.
As the rains dissipate, the atmosphere is illuminated by the fire in the sky.
you gaze over the baron desert and see sparse patches of dying tree’s .At one time these frail giants were rich with the purpose of sustaining life and bloomed apples of the reddest heart, but now all they hang are the eyes of angels fallen from grace.
Now that terror has commanded lease behind your eyes, you are now wiser to know where life leads when it plummits willingly from the bridge of betrayal.
Our journey nears its end, and we shall not attempt to make our way back to a happy ending
you may think it impossible, after what i have shown you, to once again snuggle in the arms of happiness. So before we trek back through the vulgarities of truth, i shall tell you how to triumph over the thorns of evil.
you can count the injustices in the world, and you can count how many days you have left, but life revolves around it’s own accord and you are stuck in the middle.
Choose love over hate, always forgive. Embrace those close to you, for family and the interactions with others are all you truly ever have.
And always remember that in times of indifference, one’s heart will sing, although it may not be to the tune of your desire you must always beat your drum to the song of truth.
I must leave you now, but i will always be watching, waiting for you to fall.
Now ponder this when you awake, am i heaven sent or hell risen?
Joe.
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
The torched flickered away into burnt ambers as the steady rain fell into the midnight winds. His saddle shifted awkwardly from side to side on the horses back. Through the darkened cold atmosphere, the loley man rode closer to the awaiting stranger whom sat strong atop his steed of black. As the siloutte of the stranger grew form. the man realized whom he was riding towards. It was the messenger. Had he known this job involved the messenger he would not have accepted it, or at least demanded more silver. He frantically tried to recall what he had known of the messenger. He didnt know much aside from what everyone else knew. He had strong ties with the king. He was known to be a masterful swordsman and even survived the battle at Rageer. Perhaps, the most disturbing rumor surrounding the messenger was that he had dark bounties. If he has Dark bounties that means he can ride on the other side. The frightened man remembered the whispers around pubs. Disembodied voices from other conversations would say that the messenger possessed and ever changing presence which could influence the decisions of any man in any situation.
The messenger observed the approaching man. He quickly concluded that this man was a novice at horse riding and quite possibly at everything he attempted in life. He knew this meeting was going to be a trap, but why make it so obvious by sending such a blatant decoy. The unmistakable signs of regret beading from this hopeless mans brow could be read,even through dark winds. The messenger didnt know what to expect, but he knew a bloody end was unfolding. Knowing this forest better than most and being armed with an arsenal of unseen blades, he was prepared for the worst. The two men finally met. The frightened man spoke; "I was told to deliver this to you sir". The man handed to the messenger a long paper scroll fastened by a red velvet knot. The messenger reached out calmly and accepted the parchment. With aid from the moonlight the messenger read the scroll...,
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
Things have become dyer
Spies and traitors have become many
we have lost our sources and the oppositions informants are now submerged back into guarded secrecy
The news of your return has also spread
So be weary, the hands delivering this to you may not be the original intended.
The walls are weakening please bring aid.
Primus meridian
The poorly man gazed over to the messenger. He was outfitted in very fine armors of leather. A long black cloak of light weight leather draped over each side of his horse. Everything about this man from his horse to his armors was dark. He carefully studied the messengers face. Hoping to build a better description for tales he hoped he would one day live to tell. His mouth was covered in some kind of vibrant red sash. Peering deep into the messengers busy eyes which were slighly concealed by the brim of dark hat. The man noticed, even his eyes seemed dark. There was certainly something strange about this man.
Disobeying every inner command to retreat. The little man made an attempt of redemption. " I'm sorry sir, i didnt know this was meant for you; Had i known, i would never....,They're out there now sir". "I heard their whispers, they want you dead." "they gave me a few bits of silver and told me to be here with that scroll...,i'm sorry sir, i didn't know, please..."
The messenger broke the mans ramblings as he looked up from the scroll; "Stop! i do not fault you for being weak." "it is your misplaced sense of need and obligation which brought you here" "you do not need my forgiveness, it is a strong helping of honor you require" "if it were greed which lured you into delivering this letter, the nights' darkness would have been your tomb" "Now, tell me little one...,how many are there?"
The groveling man was shocked "honor sir? How many...,i do not recall, but many for certain" Pierced by the messengers presence of authority the man glanced down and pondered his words. When he looked back to the messenger for a reply he saw nothing. The man was dumbfounded with what just took place. Just a moment ago he was in the strangling presence of a myth, a myth whose words confused but sang to him. Now, there was no presence just silence.
Unsure of what to do next the man hugged his horse to take time and register what had happened. His time of reflection never came though. The silence was broken by the fierce gruff of a horses gallop. The gallop turned into many followed by screams and clashing steal. The man realized that the messenger must have known about the deceptions because he never had a chance to tell him they were within a strong voices distance. He could hear nothing but cries in the darkness. There was commotion all around, mainly, what sounded like the thunderous rampage of a stamped of horses.
The frightened man clung to his horse piecing together the scene in his minds eye. He could see the messenger making his rounds and systematically cutting down each one of the men whom had been hiding in the forest.
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
Frantic...,Frantic, that is all he could think. The noise and jumble of his surroudings had culminated into one piercing word...,Frantic!. He had to find something to focus on in this moment or he would lose his shit. So he focused on the word that best described his present situation. from the Dead body on the ground to the thousand and one thoughts which were hardly being processed in his mind, to the bloody knife in his hand, He didn't know what the **** was going on. his hand gripped the blade tightly before it was divorced in a sudden release. Dropping the knife was the first and only good idea, Patrick had. Just releasing the incriminating evidence gave John a rush of sanity. yes, being free from the weapon just reinforced his thoughts. There is no possible way he could have been responsible for the mangled mess in front of him. It could not have been He, who turned the man in front of him into a stew of, what could pass for an abstract attempt of turning a man into a pot of Raman noodles.
John, sharply surveyed the room, looking for someone or something which may be able to explain what had just happened. he saw no other soul, just an open doorway, some lackluster furniture and a pool of blood which was quickly seeping into the fine wooden floors. The object of johns distress, was sprawled out in front of the television in many pieces accompanied with several blood splatters on the surrounding walls and john himself.. He spent a quick second thinking about cleaning this mess up, but considering that he could not remember what had just happened, he left that thought next to the dead body as he hurried his ass out of the most inviting doorway.
Three floors below the crime scene, John already felt ten pounds lighter. There was to much tension in that room, It was far to impending for john to deal with. With every step he took, John racked his brain, but it was of no use. He simply could not remember anything. Bug eyed, sweaty and squirrelly John finally reached the exit of the tenements. As he crashed through the lime green apartment door, he was greeted with a sorry sight of degradation. John found himself in the projects. As he held back the tears he beheld rusty sunlight, sidewalks stained with, probably, the worst kind of bodily fluids and trash floating by as it hitched a ride on the wind, like a tumbleweed. Johns, story just got more bleak. After breaking the portal of hope, he was rewarded with more questions than answers. what city is this, who the **** is the dead man upstairs and why is he in the projects?
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
__________________ Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
there was a friend standing there...
Behind my shadow of despair.
Through finding the silhouette that was my soul...
the face of my friend grew form.
Shattered remnants of a friendship once long ago known.
The shell of our current situation began to fill to full
Before i finally realized that the life i was living was the one i had hoped he would have embraced.
So; was living my life through his, a sin..., or a forgiveness for a lie once told?
Now i am left broken, empty and lost.
The worst part of this, my funny situation, is that i am left all alone with no friend standing there.
Were my actions a friendship betrayed, or an attempt for a bond that was never meant to be?
-Joe
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
Last edited by jinXed by JaNx on Mar 4th, 2009 at 06:07 PM
It is on all Hallows eve that the witches start their trouble.
Double, Double boil and bubble.
In a Cauldren of black, simmers a most undesirable brew.
Eye's of newt, tongues of wicked men, hearts of sightless souls and fetuses of unborn babies make for a terror in this stew.
Praiseful laughter erupts amongst the witches three.
From a dark corridor comes a furry familiar.
Carrying robed in red, Whimpers the silent cries of a thriving baby. From a first time mothers belly was he ripped.
Now into the cauldren does his fate unfortunately sit.
Deeper down into that pit as his flesh unravels away.
The baby lets out what might be took for a persons first prayer.
Swirling round and round with the witches fork. Finally this sinful mix, unleashes its many dreadful tricks.
Steeds of the most darkened sights are summoned into this blackened night.
We are only now at the begining of our tale. It is Time for Goblins of equal fright to take on their ravenous plight. From the shadows they stalk. Near your corners they will lurk. Both, children and men they snatch. Watch for their eyes of very burning yellow, for it is the only warning they will leak.
Light and dark, both, hold no safe residence.
Do not turn to the flickering flame of the jack 'o 'lantern for any type of guard.
They hold the worst kind of hate. Twisted souls, condemned by the devil himself.
Demons lay behind the gaze of the Jacko-lantern man.
Oh yes, Double,Double boil and trouble.ghosts and goblins lurk, while demons and trolls sneer. Protected by the goblins and the guardians of darkened night.
Those damned witches sit and brew.
Tonight, certainly, is one hallowed night.
Joe
__________________ "If you tell the truth, you never have to remember anything" -Twain
(sig by Scythe)
Last edited by jinXed by JaNx on Mar 4th, 2009 at 06:06 PM
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Jul 17th, 2008 04:50 PM
