Demons and Horrors
Nightmare Opening
From Daylight to the Darkness of Dreams I passed.
From the shrouds of the Subconscious, He emerged.
Nameless, as the Spectres of Slumber always are,
Faceless-- the perfect visage of Horror, it was--
And physically undefined.
He lacked not shape--
The Mind always knows what it fears most--
But lacked consistency:
Never did he retain singularity;
As each moment passed,
My Nightmare metamorphosed
And a different Fear was shamelessly manipulated.
A supreme being such as He--
My Nightmare Epitomized--
Has no understanding of shame.
With gnarled hands unfurling,
He gestured great claws toward my imminent future:
It was shapeless as Him, but with great distinction--
Distinction as only the Unreality can create
And the Subconscious interpret.
And so it was, my future revealed:
Horrors so elegant and seductive:
I never thought it possible to be lured by my own Fear.
That was my only future,
And I could only move forward.
With overpowering reluctance, I was pulled forward.
I fought only myself in my Head within my Subconscious--
Does this Realm ever explain itself?
Enter the Sandman, right? Right?
Take me from this! Claw the sand from my eyes!
I never asked for this Nightmare!
And He-- my Nightmare Epitomized--
He took me with his slimy, oozing hand,
Gripped tight with his wrinkled fingers,
And led me through the Lands Most Dark.
The Ringleader Horror
In and among my thoughts it lurks.
My senses it ensnares with overwhelming and tantalizing stimuli.
Tugged along I am by my egocentric leash,
Led down the unlit path;
A dark and deadly road that winds through the fields and forests,
the Origins of the Foul and Unmerciful Beings--
They that bless my most undeserving soul with
Profanity, Destruction, and impending Doom.
With reluctant pleasure I succumb to its dastardly schemes,
Looking forward-- looking hopefully-- toward naught by my own demise.
Death does not come to those who seek it,
And to seek Death is my sole task.
Defined, I am then, as the Forever Rounin:
To wander all my days, never to find my Shogun.
Forever I run, forever I shout, calling out to Him.
I only search for one-- All I desire is one word!
Just one, that's all I ask. Just one request: Death.
The b*****d's hiding from me, I swear it!
Death is Freedom from Tyranny.
Tyranny is Fear. Tyranny is Fear. This is Tyranny!
Bring me Freedom from this Tyranny! Give me Death!
But empty shouts in a translucent World are for naught...
Ganymeade and Sisyphus
The most unwelcome to my Heart share a passion for service:
They serve only to torture my hopes.
A Drink of the Gods, a toast to the Divine;
It's my ritual of Sisyphus in my own, everlasting Hell.
Did I ever see the River Styx?
Nay, but the End is forever nigh in my Realm.
To worship malicious Gods from the cell they imprisoned me;
Surely this is History repeating itself.
Self-loathing has never been so grand.
A Drink of the Gods, a toast to the Divine;
A Sisyphean ritual to settle the nerves,
A Sisyphean ritual to...
Oh Gods, why!?!
I give glory and honor to all but myself,
And what is my reward?
An infinite cycle of pointless repetition.
A Drink of the Gods, a toast to the Divine.
Oh Gods, what now?
What will end this Nightmare?
The Infinite Horror
I'm stuck again, between the tick and the tock
Of my ever-beating clock: a pulsing red tumor
Gushing with life.
Come the next beat, the World stops.
Stillness is Blackness, and in the Void
The World is utterly, perfectly crystal clear.
In an Instant, I experience Eternity.
In that Moment, I live forever.
In Singularity, I find everything.
Please tell me it's real, please promise me, Reality.
If what I perceive is false, how do you define yourself, Reality?
If my perception is false, did the clock ever start?
Here I go again, going nowhere at the speed of Light.
I'm stuck again, between the tick and the tock
Of my ever-beating clock: a pulsing red tumor
Gushing with life.
Here's the next beat, and I'm flat on the floor.
The sight of fluorescence has never been so beautiful;
The smell of antiseptic has never been so lush;
The feel of cold, solid tile beneath has never been so plush.
I could sleep for Eons on these clouds, shrouded in this blight.
Wait! What happened to my Light?
When do I get to see my Light at the end of the Tunnel?
I've been waiting for Eons.
I'm stuck again, between the tick and the tock
Of my still-beating clock: a pulsing red tumor
Gushing with life.
Come the next beat--
It's my final beat, and my line has gone flat.
Do I see the light at the end of this Tunnel?
Do I see anything at all?
Was I ever alive at all?
Malevolence
The World has never seen Death such as I will present it.
Every living Puppet will have a front-row ticket to my
Live Stage display: Their hearts will burn with my passion,
And they will dance along with my Ode to the End.
The Orchestra, Meus Denique Vox,
It shall play my final Concerto.
The Brass shall Brazenly bellow my burning rage.
The Woodwinds shall sharply shout,
And within the chasms of every soul shall my Terror echo.
The Percussion shall bring all to their trembling knees with Fear.
And the Strings... Oh the Strings shall sing the Chorus of my Heart:
Not a eye in the House will be dry, and not a soul will be empty,
Because this Song is the Song of my Soul,
And deeply will it resonate within the restless Heart of Men.
These Men of String, These Strings that sing the Song of my Soul...
Strings... Strings will burn and tear flesh from reality,
And I will return to Reality--
No, please do not take me from Reality!
I have but only begun to grasp the Truth of Reality--
I am reminded of the harshness of Reality:
Hello, Hello, Hello shouts the awful, hateful Machine.
Wrathful. Yes, Wrathful is what I am
As my oldest companion, Despair, settles deep in my gut again.
No utterance can dictate nor gesture articulate the true depth of that which dwells in my soul this hour. These dead, inert symbols of sound and ink cannot construct even an effigy of the Demons and Horrors harbored within. It is the worst of times to reside amidst this Chaos.
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The Various Things
Can I get a little Amen?
No more running from the Hangman.
Now I'm the Pilot of the SPACESHIP!
So you can touch it, you can taste it!
CAN I GET A LITTLE AMEN?
[/align:08e2b07727][/size:08e2b07727]
[img:08e2b07727]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v108/Rukoto/anakinvsnewb.png[/img:08e2b07727]
No more running from the Hangman.
Now I'm the Pilot of the SPACESHIP!
So you can touch it, you can taste it!
CAN I GET A LITTLE AMEN?
[/align:08e2b07727][/size:08e2b07727]
[img:08e2b07727]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v108/Rukoto/anakinvsnewb.png[/img:08e2b07727]
User Comments: [2] [add]
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Long_Time-No_Sea Community Member |
User Comments: [2] [add]
Community Member
They are just a touch ... erm ... dark. A little too much for me.