[ rabbit's foot and pig's feet ]

I grind the bones of giants
to make my Lord's bread.
I strike the hammer down
against the Etin's head.

I scream, so near death,
to lift up bloody runes!
The steaming battle fields
lure crows to feed on flesh,

infected wounds,
blood, brains. The rage is
as ink stains on pages.
I'll crush your enemies.
Brush aside naivety!

I'd die for honor not for you.
I'll slay your men who don't stay true.
I'll defend when you are weak
to prove my dark spirit's worth.
I am pure pain and never meek.
This burning fucking wretched Earth
has heard my battle cry since birth!

My frightened foes, they reek
of inevitable defeat!
Rabbit's foot and pig's feet,
crosses protect no one from me.
Children of Jötunheim will flee!

I feed on pain and I smell lies.
Can't I be freed from life at least?
The gods will not let me die
for I have long been deceased!

[ condition of decomposition ]

Keep me near death
so I can hear the breath
of phantoms
who read me their poems!

They have composed
through the veil
of the decomposed,
screaming from Hel,

ghosts of inspiration.
This ethereal
dark manifestation
is surreal.

My mind cannot sustain
these thoughts of solitude!
What wisdom can I gain?
A demon's platitude
can't relieve my pain!
What is there left to do
but kill away the brain?

I have no sorrow for tomorrow.
Anything to end this day
would surely satisfy
my desperate need to bleed.

I have no way
to live for today,
was long gone
before dismay
tore through this
dismal apparition.

Yes, I shall always be this way.
Are you aware of my condition?

[ places dead introverts hide ]

I'm only make-believe my dear,
and have been ever since I died.
I'm following my fetch-deer
but everyday I've cried...

if not with tears, in blood,
if not from fears, a flood

of memories overwhelming,
profane screaming condescending!

Whenever the dead arise from within
walking cemeteries become gardens.
Ice within an expired heart hardens
as they consume the dead with a grin.

I may be somewhat pale and thin.
I'm Nordic and protect my skin
from sunlight on bright afternoons.
I often like to watch cartoons
instead of going outside.
Introverts can see inside

the places where we like to hide,
the places where the dead reside.

[ fatherly sadism ]

Everyday I feel your hoof upon my chest!
In every way I strive to do my best
to end this torment, but surely I jest,

for what has no beginning has no end.
A frightened child is not able to defend
himself against the raging sadism
of his fatherly tormentor.

Denigration and disintegrating terrorism
is behind the walls of every home
that stinks of Budweiser and screaming.

There is nowhere to escape to
where I wouldn't hear your blackened tongue
hollowing out my frightened soul.
That fear is no longer mine.
You took it from me and found somewhere to hide.
You never returned to make good
on your promises that you would kill me.

You fucking coward, are you afraid
because you've some idea what I've become?
Perhaps you're scared shitless by your own shadow.
I've no fear of meeting death
and I will drag you down to Hel.
Unrealized existence fills my breath
and the Underworld is where I dwell.

Your head should be on a stick,
you sociopathic drunken prick,
and I'd prefer you try and kill me.
I'd have legal reason enough
to fulfill my vengeful fantasy.
Let's see if you are quite so tough

when you aren't beating children!

[ darkness painted ]

I've been searching the Sky
while the stars cry their eyes out,
wishing for something other than darkness
painted in between.

[ daughter of a priestess ]

Your eyes were dilated and dissected my soul.
My chronic catastrophic antiapocalypse
transfixed on your tongue like the setting Sun...
I'd fly through the flames disguised as a lightning bug
and burn off my undeserved wings
if that room contained your unattainable love.

Through this burning agony smoke rises above
carrying my thoughts into the air.
You've left me with remnants and despair.
Without a lock of your hair
no magic can save me,
no spells can make you see.
I'd given up waiting,
yet I'm still waiting for you now.

My sanity was lost to me
and the exit was a painted sign on a brick wall.
My other hope was feeling too hopeless.
My heart still imagines you in a wedding dress.
Your fickle disinterest clouds my fevered mind,
causing this supposed reality to unwind.
I've been bleeding, needing, but I transgress...
my heart still belongs to the daughter of a priestess.

You were born to stick pins into my aorta.

I remember your hips and your lips
as stenographer's transcripts
encoded into my translucent brain,
loaded with explosives,
implosive pain.
You've categorized and standardized
the impulsive nature of my obsession.
Longing for you was not my transgression.
Telling you was my fatal mistake,
or so it would seem...

I'd rather not believe I've lost you because of the truth.
I'd prefer to not think you desired only lies.
I'd never leave your heart out for the flies,

as you have left mine,
rotting alone until the next life
where I shall confess my love yet again.
You don't perceive my intelligible strife.
I would kill or die to make you my wife,
but such decisions are not mine to make.
From my chest please remove this stake!

Jesus was dead until resurrected by the Magdalena.
Isis was the savior of the Sun.

I'm your mortal vampire
purified by this holy fire.

Forgive me for this compulsive sin!
At least that's somewhere to begin.
I'm guilty of good deeds as well.
Find me here, in the dark, where I dwell!

[ lost analogs ]

He can't see her love clearly through this haze of self-loathing.
His brain starts to feel like it's decomposing
as it decrypts her lips digitized and overanalyzed.
Surreal sounds of misconstrued analogies
puzzle minds all too traumatized
to see through eyes disguised as hidden analogs.

Fog rises from the bogs as souls dissipate as mere apparitions,
cast aside by the wind like superstitions
and nonsensical lighter than air apparatuses.

What can tear apart the strongest oak?

♥