Terror Shivered... His Red Eyes....Cold Inside- by: the damned


Under your skin there is this
What you've always wanted
Under your skin there is this
Submit
Death is inevitable
The end is inevitable
Death is inevitable
The end is inevitable
Submit


Under your skin is a skeleton
Without you it's just bones
It's what remains after you die
Death is inevitable
What you've always wanted
Submit
Submit
Submit

Hello, and welcome to La La Land. Some sort of surreal, partial world that resembles the real one I used to know. Where bad things were bad, good things were good, and the recognition of either was possible. Here, inside my mind of dimentia nothing counts, nothing cuts the surface, and simply blurs by. In this place, I am. That is the extent. I'm not something specific, just Am. It's where I live, sit, breathe, and wander. Where I do not think, do not want to think. Strangley enough it's not so bad. But yet I'm so afraid of it. The mere idea brings fear.

The thick paint strewn across the porous wall is bubbling up. It's aching and pouring. Purging itself from its long lived position, destined to flow once again. Brick by brick it defies its nature, against all odds of man, and makes its way to hapiness again. Once it's content, there's no way to tell what happens next. But for now it bubbles and drips willingly.

Relevance vs Ethereality- by: the damned

Covered the teeth
Blood
Trickled the chin
Death
Destroyed the mind
Inability
And the eys in the head
Rolled back
To view the past
To process signals in the brain
Realizing things shouldn't be this way
Also
The street flew beneath
Speeds as fast as cars
Over the town
Ashes sprinkled down
And the accident
Flames burning
Despite disbelief
Greater powers point fingers
Smiting out
Life
Devouring all
Souls
Hurting the ones the love

Your request has been denied
There is no chance of prevailing
In the current state
I recommend that you die
And put yourself out of the misery

"The (Ever Opressing) Man'

Serious Side Effects of Rock- by: the damned

We were playing good ol' rock and roll
I rocked the socks of this guy
He left in a shock
His bare feet in the freezing cold
He got pnumonia
Then he died
So one could say
That perhaps
It is a possibility
Maybe
Probably
That I rocked him so hard
That he died
He was rocked to death

Rock and roll will never die
So one could say
Rock and roll can not out rock itself to death

An iron fist broke my jaw....

A Bullet for the Gods- by: the damned

Walking through the underbrush
Brushing through the branches
He's got a gun in hand
With no intention in mind
He's a long long way
From where ever he should be
He's got tears streaming from his eyes
For a girl he lost the day before
She's done and gone
Moved onto a better man

Peering up through the leaves
His thought is
"To myself I must be true,"
On the outskirts of town
Of a place he once loved
He's wandering the fields
Looking for something he never knew
"What am I in this world?"

But now all the tears are gone
No more crying, no more denying
What once was himself
Is now a picture of only rememberance
He's got his things
Only what one needs
And he's fighting himslef for a reason to believe

"Dear, please believe me
But I just couldn't help myself.
Here in this place,
All alone, with no one else,
I make my stand."

The wind blows his hair
As his knees give way
In the mud beneath
He breaks down again
"Should I get up,
Or relish in the absence of myself?"
Dirty fingers twitch in the cold
Struggling simply to keep hold
On the gun that lays loosely in his palm
On on grander level unkown
In the same essence
To hold on to what he does have left

Into the sky he raises his arm
To the ground he lowers his head
His body cold
The sun behind the clouds
A blast is heard in the distance
And where he kneels

Gathering his things
His only lonely self
He heads back into the trees
Walking through the underbrush
With nothing in hand
With one intention in mind
To get a long long ways away
From where ever it is he was
His eyes are now shock dry
And he just walks
Stumbling through the woods

Somewhere in our vast, sensless minds, lingers the ability to deny ourselves. To completely ignore the obvious for the supposed sake of our own well being. Is what we're really doing an unconcious thought, to say, that for some reason, be it guilt or shame, that we repress ourselves? Only upon our own self collapse, and utter destruction, when there is nowhere to go, that our self realizes its actions. But even so, often we never look in retrospect and discover the fault at its source. Instead we attempt to solve this new found thing, that had been hidden by a bigger problem. Self ignorance is incredible. You can see it every face you look at, you'll find it when you dissect their lives. But yet, it's nearly impossible to discover your own. And even harder, if you do realize, to conciously correct it, and conciously keep merit on its progress.

-the damned

When I Left- by: the damned

I'm searching
For the dark
For the spilt blood
For the one who's lost it all
I'm looking into the dark
I'm reaching for the wrong
I'm understanding the truth held within
And you hide in the corner
I searching for the eye that can read my heart
Although black it may be
I'm looking for the one who can distinguish
The true intent that the heart was meant to be
Whose blood pulses like mine
Whose mind reads all the same signs
Who realizes all the pain and death
Is of absolutley no significance
I'm looking for a black heart that burns like mine