I divide my writings into sections based on periods of my life:
Before
Start of my life, before the obsession.
You call me a cynic
I hear a compliment
You call me godless
I hear a compliment
You stare at me
and I stare back
You see something you cannot understand
I see myself
I see emptiness
I see the Void
You ask me why I'm so cynical
I say:
because I see
because I feel
because I am
because I do not run
like you
Obsession
The obsession of a certain woman that took quite a toll on my psyche, and produced large amounts of truly hideous pseudo-poetry. Beware!
everything I see
everything I taste
everything I hear
everything I smell
everything I touch
everything I sense is so increadibly dull
so increadibly ugly and gray
for I can only compare it to you
Blind
An age of refusing to see the love in front of my eyes.
there is but darkness this side of eternity
there is but silence this side of death
there is but pain this side of love
despite this there is but hope in our hearts
Silence
Too scared to speak up.
I saw a vision of an angel
my heart suddenly real
my soul nothing but an eye trying to see
but it was not her
Joy
My first period with Lilith, the third angel.
when I'm with you am am not trapped inside
when you stand beside me everything is simple
when you kiss me there is no doubt
you fill the hole in my soul
the emptiness that is my insanity, my blindness and my hesitation
they all go away with your smile
Middle age
An age of being single again.
life is a vortex
throwing me hither and thither
casually dragging me along
like a leaf blowing in the wind
there's a pain in my chest
I called it Demon in times past
I called it Love, I called it Hate
but it is just Satan unleashed
why do you test my faith Father?
I thought I made it clear I have none
Stagnancy
Second period with Lilith where I let it all slowly rot.
oh how easy it is to wake my thirst for death again
just a song about a happy phantom
just a reminder of how it is without her
a reminder of loneliness
incompleteness
when we touch Death's scythe rusts
His cloak turns black and cold
like night falling on my head
falling on His cloak
bring me a glass darling
That would put me in period 7 right now, hindsight creates the names. The following link will give you the things written in this period.
The poems archive, uncensored