Filler Poems: Bleakwind.

"Despair stretches for miles, a carpet of silver..."

(This is the last Filler Poem I'll be publishing - starting from 1st January 2014, I'll be publishing short stories on my blog. Preferably on a bi-weekly basis, but there may be delays.)

Bleakwind.
Where once life frolicked and people went about
Now a dark wind chimes, sending the land into drought
No fire from the sun, only the cold that winter brings
That scours anything still living, anything that still clings
To life and hope in the season of despair
A season in which nothing ever does seem fair
For even all good things must come to and end
Your spine now chills, your flesh, frost will rend
Trees contract inwards, gnarled branches warping and writhing
In the shrill, sinister wind, also effortlessly slicing
Through flesh and through bone, bringing men to their knees
Even now, not one person sees
How death and decay
And all life fading to gray
Are all normal parts of the winter
That causes all hope to splinter.

One may think winter is a time of peace and giving
A time for fun and laughter, a season for forgiving
But none know when winter was the inevitability of life
When all vigor was gone, and when silent, was all strife
For even creation is the precursor to death
Even the hardiest warrior becomes short out of breath
When his life is gone, and his soul now departs
Body growing cold, lifeless, his heart
And that is the substance of winter's woe
Death and despair - two halves of one eternal foe
That may never be conquered, never beaten, never turned
To the path of Good; rather die as the world now burned
Not in flames most ardent, but unfeeling ice
No sensation to be felt, nothing so nice
As a warm summer's breeze - only stasis and cold
Now that the Bleakwind grows ever so bold.

Picturesque fields form graveyards of gray
A field of death, a plot of obscenity, if I may
Revealing horrors no man chooses to face
Willingly, keeping them hidden in life's twisted race
From birth to death, many escape without blemish
But some still crumble, some may perish
Fall into the void, cut and torn by bitter gales
Echoing through space, but not through the ages
Too late to be saved - left to become rotten
With a chorus of misery; one that is ultimately forgotten
And winter now becomes the season of woe
It was always meant to be - life's eternal foe.

Despair stretches for miles, a carpet of silver
Isolated and alone; the Bleakwind is left to pilfer
Or perhaps chip away at the blank walls of sanity
Break down reality and fiction; force one to fall to insanity
And the season of joy and gift-giving
Becomes an ordeal unforgiving
Decay and despair now reclaim their season
Of misery and entropy, for no logical reason
Other than spite and unending cold
Now the forces of darkness can grow ever bold
Chilly climes now turn into desolate stretches
Miles of land, and the twisted, warped wretches
That were once known as human, now having to rescind
All form of pleasure, to the bitter, bitter Bleakwind.

Source of photo of bleak landscape: http://fineartamerica.com/featured/bleak-gary-yates.html

Filler Poems: I Dream of Us.

"I dream of us, you know..."

I Dream of Us.
I dream of us, you know
Lying together on verdant fields, free from all worry
Your hand by my side and our hearts beating together
I'd never let you go, and I hope you'd do the same
I could lie here for all eternity, and admire you for who you are
Not a damsel in distress
Nor a subservient dame
Not even a subordinate
But as my partner, my equal and my half
Without you, I am incomplete, a puzzle left unfinished
Left cold and alone, clutching wounds unhealed
But you, you complete me, you heal past scars
And guide me to a future ever so bright.

I dream of us, you know
But really, I dream of you
And all the little features I've come to adore
Your perfect azure eyes, glistening with hope and the light
Of a million little stars, each unique in their beauty
But none as beautiful as you, my love
Your pursed, bewitching lips, soft as the finest silk
Free from imperfection, as comforting as summer's embrace
Always managing to keep me silent, even on cold, dark nights
With just the two of us, kept quiet and at peace
Or maybe even your voice, as alluring as Siren's song
Captivating me, rekindling emotions unknown
To this chilled, broken organ beating deep within
Fearful to blossom, lest it be hurt most grievously
But you, you may just be the cure I need.

I dream of us, you know
Especially before, before we got together
Day and night, you bewitched me, kept me awake for endless
Hours, draining me of sleep and filling me with the hope
That one day you'd be mine and I would be yours
At the time, I thought it foolish, even naive
For me to foster any hope of asking you
To fill the hole in my wounded heart
And allow me to make you happy in ways innumerable
Of course, the courage I needed, I lacked
I slumbered in darkness, kept away from the light
Of love and all things comforting (you, especially)
An error - no, a mistake, I thought myself to be
Forever alone and forever divided from all
That is, until you entered my life
Like a shining, glimmering, pulchritudinous angel from above.

I dream of us, you know
And what awaits us in the future
The crimson fire of rage and hatred?
Or the comforting tides of love and respect?
I sure hope the latter's more than a fleeting dream
But a tangible, possible reality
I love you completely, fully and utterly
No words can express how you make me feel
The blackest night can become the brightest day
All thanks to you, my own little angel
Who I'd do anything to keep happy, forever and always
May our love persevere, even until the End of Time.

Source of hand-holding image: http://pinkypromised.com/

Filler Poems: Decay.

"Eaten away, from within and without..."

Decay.
The war has been lost, the fight has come to an end
You fall to your knees, clutching wounds most grievous
Unable to repair, these wounds, you are unable to mend
Further down you fall, your skin blossoming with nevus
Many they are, for they herald your ultimate fate
To be exiled from this world, forever torn from body
Your soul will endure, with a hunger it cannot sate
Right now, you persevere, vision turning groggy
Limbs grow cold and organs shut down
One by miserable one, they give up the good fight
Movement becomes inertia, your will beginning to drown
All hope is lost, all redemption is out of sight
The vermin circle over your dying, sundered flesh
As you crawl ever forwards, powered by the naive hope
That your psyche will endure and the body will refresh
In solitude you fall; today, you die alone.

Soul leaves body, into warmer, more tolerable climes
Forever kept apart, forever broken in two
Vultures now crow and bells begin to chime
Nothing left to say, nothing left to do
The insects come first, bringing with them pestilence and strife
Trampling over one another each vying for the best spot
To suck nutrients from, to nourish themselves on fresh, deceased life
The flesh now decays, the body beginning to rot
And crumble and wither, contracting each day
Muscle and sinew peel away, revealing egg-white bone
Conditions turn foul and this feast turns gray
With less to go around, yet still one remains alone
Isolated from all, matter flaking and curling away
The skeleton lies solemn, silent, sleeping
Nothing left to do and nothing left to say
Remnants of old fade into ashes of new, forever weeping.

The legacy left behind is anything but strong
The fortress crumbling down even now
Left to linger away in a darkness so wrong
You weep and you cry, yet still you must bow
To the fate that binds all creatures, both living and dead
The rot that pervades is the precursor to a new beginning
For it is vital for new beginnings; a silver lining to clouds of lead
Although you lost in this life, someone else may indeed be winning
Rising from ashes, claiming joy for their own
Whilst you linger and you hang, between stasis and change
Their life continues, and the hallowed cathedral of bone
That once supported your body is forever out of range
In time, you may be erased, purged from history
A peaceful end, a fitting demise
Until then, all that awaits is unending misery
No way out of this prison, you surmise.

Aeons pass, and bones of old now shatter
Into diminutive little fragments, swept away by fresh winds
Nothing is sacred, nothing really does matter
Only now does your past life begin to rescind
The footprint you left on this pale blue dot
All works blasted away, all interactions lost in fog
No need to learn, no need to jot
New information down; no use when you're rotting in a bog
Home is but a ruin; a cold, miserable place, I must say
Its inhabitants long gone; the family already missing
And in the once-verdant yard, now brown with decay
Rotting away, life is, leaves already chilling
As Death himself sweeps away the remnants of yesterday
Making way for the generation of tomorrow
Alone, we are, all lost in gray
Drowning in waves of inevitable sorrow. 

Image of decay: http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs28/f/2008/047/0/8/Decay_by_SephirothsHeart.jpg

Filler Poems: The Void - Part 4. (Man Rises and Conquers)

"A frontier to conquer, a destiny to fulfill..."

The Void - Man Rises and Conquers.
The road to total dominion is a road traveled by few
Those who had done so before faced total calamity
Even the mighty dinosaurs - victims of a threat insurmountable
A world turned to ash, their empire left in fragments
Yet Man took up this weighty mantle, ready to continue
On the foundations of old, the modus operandi:
Divide and conquer, spread out and take over
All the known world, no matter what
And so it was that fledgling Man continues his Great Conquest
At first, a collection of savage tribes, wandering great unknowns
Travelling the land, ultimately settling down
Creating the first settlements; something other species have failed to emulate
Tools were built - to make Man's hardships more tolerable
Food was grown, and beasts were tamed
Man's strength grew immensely, his intellect unmatched
By the mightiest beast or the smallest insect
He was king of all he surveyed, emperor of his land
Yet still, his ingenuity knew no bounds
Monuments of wood became obelisks of stone
Ever more durable, more resistant to the decay
That permeated and sunk into ordinary men's lives
A decay that failed to rot the hope and ambition
That kept the engines of progress marching on.

The stones themselves heralded the birth of metal
A truly malleable material, fit for Industrial Man
To begin bending the world to his unassailable will
Machines and mighty wonders were built, to help cement Man's place
In this world, to leave behind a lasting legacy
Earth itself was Man's domain, the resources inside vital
For Man's continued growth and survival in this harsh, cruel world
That still lay untamed, with lands yet to be sloughed
A frontier to conquer, a destiny to fulfill
If Man's job was to rule, he exceeded it in spades
Gone was Nature's dominion over Man; where once
One would need to spend hours hunting for food
Man could do all these things effortlessly, giving himself
More time to better himself and improve the lives of his brethren
Birthing law and order, even curing rotting plagues
Educating generations both old and new
Creating locomotives faster than pure-bred horses
Yet still, there was much that needed to be done
And many more things that made life unfair;
Prejudice based on race
Prejudice based on gender
Prejudice based on creed
Much needed to be done to better Man's domain
And that change would come, at the hands of the many...

Slowly, steadily, the blights of old
Began crumbling down, one by damned one
The monarchies that ruled with fists of iron and silver tongues?
Either brutally overthrown or made defunct by democracy
Totalitarian regimes with ambitions to conquer the world?
Either forced to surrender, dissolved from within, or slowly isolated.
Even prejudice itself took many mighty hits
From individuals who sought to better life for themselves and their fellow humans
No matter what the cost, to themselves or their lives
Of course, many advances were made that granted Man with
Unstoppable weapons and bombs of ultimate destruction
That defiled the land and destroyed all life
Even chemicals that strangled indiscriminately, without passion or remorse
Man's blood-lust was tempered, if only momentarily
For the superpowers of the world all focused separately on one goal
To reach for the stars, to land on the Moon
Man's dream became reality, and he took one small step
That became a giant leap for all Mankind
Music brought waves of pleasure to rich and poor
From the disco of the eighties to the grunge of the nineties
Uniting people in a way never done before
Forming bonds that would be galvanized by the then-newborn Net
Now, a Union crumbled, and States rose to providence
And although focus stagnated, and many lost hope
Momentum would pick up, and Man's diaspora marched on.

The very fabric of life was tested in this experimental new age
New power sources found, splitting the atoms of elements
Became commonplace, yet this was not enough
To sate Man's ever-growing hunger for more and more energy
Human ingenuity would reach its pinnacle and beyond
As the very process which drives stars was harnessed for good
Quelling the hunger, slaking the need for energy
To power machines that could do the unthinkable;
Think for themselves, and aid Man in his grand quest
To continue his diaspora, and spread out among the stars
His world now subjugated, his sight turned to the sky
A vast, endless frontier, ripe with opportunity
Fractured, Man would get nothing, so together
Entire nations came, the divides that kept them apart forever sealed
In the face of a common objective, a desire which encompasses
All minds, no matter how feeble or strong
March forwards to the birth of a new tomorrow
A day in which all humans are free and equal
The divides of today confines to the annals of history
Now together for the first time, we can continue
To fulfill our Manifest Destiny, and take our place in the stars
For if we are alone in this harsh Universe
It is our duty to tame this mistress, and bring her to submission
It is Man's time to shine - and make your existence count.

Source of sunrise image: http://wallpaupers.com/dps-bali-sunset-over-java-island-from-aircraft/

Filler Poems: The Void - Part 3. (Life's Diaspora)

"Reaching upwards and upwards..."

The Void - Life's Diaspora.
Now, it may seem like the Universe
And all it encompasses is nothing more than a bleak
Uncaring
Undying
A forever bitter void, filled with madness and despair
A playground for all the opposites to life, the demons that would
Claw and tear at all living beings, bringing nothing but death
And despair in their wake
Igniting fires that burnt whole galaxies
And drained stars of their life-giving light
Yet, somehow, somewhere, the first seeds were planted
Whether on a comet up high or Mother Earth herself, it is no matter
Holding steadfast, hidden for so, so many long, cold years
Outlasting the very demons who haunted our realm
And as the last fiend fell into fire, now life could truly bloom
Reaching upwards and upwards, growing in complexity
First forged in the fires of stellar bodies
Now colonizing the once-lifeless planets
A new age dawned for the Universe.

First, came only cells
Single, imperfect circles embodying life itself
Multiplying from one to make millions
Their time would come and go, as progress trundles ever forwards
Bringing with it new life, new meaning, new hope
The very first true creatures sprang up
In Earth's ancient oceans, carpets of glittering sapphire
Always changing, never constant, creating many alien lifeforms
Swimming through primordial seas, ultimately bursting onto land
Expanding, growing, reaching outwards
In an unstoppable burst of growth
Earth would be united, the seeds of life all blooming
Through the land and the sea, pulsating
With emotions unknown, yet the empire of many would come
To an abrupt hand, as Mother Earth shifts
And turns and writhes and cries
Rivers of lava, eruptions of fire
Scarring the land, blighting all known life.

Many years, it would take, for recovery to begin
From the ashes of old, life waxes once more
Bouncing back from doom, leaping away from jaws of fire
But things were not the same, for new life would herald
An Age not seen before, a rule of cold-blood
For the dinosaurs would rise, and all others could only watch
These kings, these reptilian fiends rise up and snatch
The crown from their progenitors, ruling over all
All others hid away, or were crushed underneath bone and claw
Millions of years passed, and billions of generations came and went
And the dinosaurs held steadfast, sure in their belief
That they were eternal, that life would go on as normal
But as we now know, nothing ever stays the same
And so it was, on one ordinary day
The skies would burn with blood and fire
As interstellar gunfire scarred the surface of the Earth
Kicking up dust, shielding land from sun
No forging of new life, only the beginning of bleak, bleak winter
That froze the land and chilled the dinosaurs' cold blood
To the point where they fell, gasping, fading into the annals of history
All hope was lost, at least for them, anyways
As one tiny species rose from cold, cold ashes
Those species were mammals, and they would do wonders.

Building on foundations set long ago
The mammals spread, in their own unique diaspora
Just as the dinosaurs and those who came before did
Only this time, their conquest was brought not by exploration
Or long, slumbering patience
But fresh, raw violence, a primal need for competition
Only the well-adapted survived - not necessarily the strongest
Or the most intelligent
And so, life continued on, even when a mighty Ice Age
Eclipsed the world, shrouding ocean and land in mountains of ice
Many died, and more so were lost
When the ice was drawn back, back to wintry climes
And it was in this time of strife and terror
That one species would make itself known; a species known
As Homo Sapiens, or wise man
This species carried with it intellect, and for a time, was
Disorganized
Chaotic
Unpredictable
But in time, after all competition withered away and demons died
Man could begin his unstoppable conquest of the lands
But that particular tale, is a story for another day.

Source of image of life: http://kr.best-wallpaper.net/Warm-spring-green-shoots-photography_1600x1200.html

Filler Poems: The Void - Part 2. (Hostile Forces)

"Order is no constant, only Chaos fills that role..."

The Void - Hostile Forces.
Space.
A realm in which the laughter
Of forces unknown
Echoes through all the known dimensions
Shattering resolve, breaking will
Entire nations quake in fear, whole empires orchestrate
Their fall at the hand of these ruinous powers
That came before all, and will last longer still
Order is no constant, only Chaos fills that role
What they are, no-one knows, their intentions an enigma
They are anathema to all life - in this twisted
Existence, they are masters of their fate
And perhaps your fate
And the fates of all.
There is no escape
No escape
From your destiny here.
Nothing is ever still, save for four constants
Four collections of emotion that linger in the hearts
Of every man and beast in the galaxy
Yet sit outside of our realm, imprisoned and shackled
All still fully capable of bringing harm to us all.

The first, a blood-crazed barbarian, thirsting for war
Sitting atop his realm on a throne of skulls and blood
Dripping with the misery of thousands of lost souls
He is the embodiment of war, the personification of rage
His demons are filled with blood-lust, forever mad, forever angry
Looking to ravage and dominate in conflicts galore
The realm they reside in is a crimson wonderland
Filled with the screams of the wrathful and the corpses
Of those too weak to withstand the tempest
Of Rancor and Rage, two fuels of war
And anger and scathing fury
Sating mortals' primitive need for violence
Or perhaps exacerbating it? One can never be sure
Of the boons one can find when lost in jet-black rage
The curses are many, yet hordes still leap
And jump and vie for the chance to wreak havoc
To let loose on a world so cold, so indifferent
Their battle-cry inspires fear in the hearts of all
"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"

Second lies the Architect, the Weaver of Fates
Always changing, never constant
Spinning and weaving plots that span across the ages
That encapsulate everything and everyone, even the Weaver
Himself, who embodies hope and change
Two things which drive all the mortal races
Stasis is despised, an aberration left out
Only change will do, whether good or bad
Sustained by this desire, the Changer of the Ways
Manipulates and tempts ordinary men towards dark, dark futures
All whilst furthering his own twisted, convoluted schemes
His realm, oh, it is madness personified!
An ever-changing landscape of all nine dimensions
Colors of every form, alien and natural, shine through in this
Madman's dream, this eldritch nightmare
Uninhabitable for all except daemons
Distorting senses, driving many to insanity
At the center of this realm, lies an Impossible Fortress
Warping and twisting and changing, unassailable
Reflecting misery and hope, dreams and nightmares
And at the very center, you'll find the Changer himself
"Your fate is his to command, your doom already foretold."

The third, a herald of death and decay
Perhaps the oldest of this twisted, Chaotic quartet
Following in life's footsteps since the birth of all living things
Forming the ruins of tomorrow, the despair that sits
In all men's hearts
Strengthening, galvanizing the Plague Father
A precursor of all, the shadow that looms over
Man's dying breath, feeding on the rot
That plagues all living and all dead
His realm, a mockery of all that lives
A foul cesspit of disease and filth
The very air carries with it the stench of death
The ground, covered in corpses old and new
Blooming with pox, pandemics forged not in fire
But in the process of entropy, a profane practice
Which brings about caricatures of life, foul, hideous beings
Cloaked in misery, embellished with all manner of blights
Bloated with corruption, wearing necrotic skin
True, undying filth, but rather than wallow in misery
This realm is jovial, happy, just like those who cling to life
Pestilence is seen as a gift, plagues are hearty boons
To those that follow the Fly Lord, his modus operandi
Booming across the land
"The hope of a moment is but the foundation stone
Of everlasting regret."

Lust and hedonism, the precursors to the last
Nightmare to rise from the depths of darkness
Created by depravities unknown, as an empire fell
Into vile, vile deeds, acts forever foul and demonic
That tore worlds apart, that birthed a new god
Her screams, unearthly, her form, angelic
All but a guise to lure innocent souls
To slake her hunger, for She Who Thirsts
Is never content, is always thirsting for more
Indulging in the profane, dabbling in heresy
Sinking further and further to new heights of depravity
Nothing is sacred, nothing is safe
From this quest for pleasure, this journey of lust
That leads one to the Palace of Pleasure
Surrounded by six rings, each representing a different
Woe - or blessing, depending on how you view this realm
Avidity, Gluttony and Carnality come first, a slew of
Greed, promises of wealth and untold riches
All the best wines and foods from across the frontier
Carnal hopes blossom, testing one's true desires
Paramountcy the fourth, bringing with it
Cries of adulation, granting absolute power
Vainglory, the home of your perfect self-image
Should you feel any ounce of pride, this realm becomes your home
And finally, Indolence, where one second's sleep
Adds another soul to dusty bone beaches
For all eternity, yet, the benefits are clear:
"An eternal life of unrestricted pleasure and hedonism."

Beware, weary traveler, for should you be coaxed
Into mad blood-lust, falling into rancor and fire
Or the always-changing tides of Fate, twisting and warping
Maybe even the deathly plagues that the Father gifts
Or the rampant aftermath of one race's hedonism
Shield your mind from all these, and perhaps your soul
Will not be forfeit to these foul creations of all.

Source of Chaos logo image: http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Chaos

Filler Poems: The Void - Part 1. (Space)

(I'm going to try creating a poem that does not rhyme today. Yes, poems do not have to rhyme.
This poem will be split into 4 sections - all the more for you to see, eh?)

"A cold, cold cradle, suited for none..."

(This is going to be part of a quartet of non-rhyming poems that I will post over the course of the weekend.
I will switch between rhyming and non-rhyming - for now, I just want to try something new.)

The Void - Space.
Space.
An empty, barren, lifeless
Facsimile of a realm
Impossible to survive in, uninhabitable for the intelligent
Carpets upon carpets of vast, empty nothingness
Roll out for leagues aplenty
Hostile to all in their path
Skies glitter with the fires of a thousand stars
As thousands more are snuffed out
By their own decadence and hubris, their lifeblood runs low
Some end with a whimper, others
end
with
a Bang!
Their bodies explode in glorious fashion, their flesh
Serving as the foundation for worlds yet to be.
Shrouds of darkness still coat this alien frontier
Hiding ancient works
Consuming countless worlds
It would be a long time before light shone once more.

In this desolate land, this lifeless warp
A playground for gods, a nightmare for life
Who is no masters of its own fate
Only a tool to be used and abused by those who came before
All existence, before all living things
No beacons of hope will save you, for the Universe is
Uncaring
Indifferent
Hostile to all life
A cold, cold cradle, suited for none
Especially not life smart enough to spread out
Out beyond the confines of their home world
To find out how we came to be, we must go back
Go back to the beginning, when
All it took was a spark, a spark to
Kick-start life, and that event came
In the form of a Big Bang! Or was it a Creator?
Either way, the world that was made isn't too pretty.

Rivers of lava and seas of hate
Characterize the first worlds, these grim, lifeless rocks
Hanging like crimson baubles in the tapestry of the cosmos
Playthings, mere puny playthings in the eyes of the gods
Footnotes not worth a moment's notice
In time, though, these worlds would grow
Into bastions of life, the one thing that
Failed to blossom as quickly as many other
Grim, undying aspects of the material universe;
Death
Entropy
Anxiety
Fear
Being some notable examples
Manifesting in realms beyond
Our own, beings incomprehensible to us
That would drive the strong-willed to the precipice of insanity
And shepherd the weak into valleys of darkness
Nevertheless, Time continued to flow
Its tides ebbing and undulating, carrying
Notions of progress and change
Change that needed to come, for the good of all life.

Still, the Cosmos pays no heed to us
For even our Empire is but a modicum of a dot
A tiny, infinitesimal speck in the darkness primordial
A darkness that has hung over galaxies
And stars and planets like a cold, dark shroud
Of course, for now, the void lies alone
Apathetic to the plight
Of all life
Trundling on, no matter what the cost
Entire worlds swallowed, civilizations up-heaved
Thrown into the dustbin of forgotten history
It is possible, had things gone differently
The Universe, and life as we know it
May never have existed, lost in unending shadow
I know it seems like the universe is truly something
To be feared and despised by those who cherish life
Of course, I am not even touching on
The ruinous powers that lurk behind the scenes
A more than worthy threat to our continued survival
These are no ordinary daemons, they are entities from the Beginning
The culmination of thousands of years of forming, our very emotions
Giving them breath and shape and form and motive
Their raison d'etre?
Wait, be patient, perhaps we'll both find out.

Source of space image: http://wall.alphacoders.com/big.php?i=468742

Filler Poems: Call of The Elder.

"Wings unfolding, rage undying..."

Call of The Elder.
Underneath the sea, a fallen god lies slumbering
Forgotten by Man, its voice still thundering
On cold, dark nights, through all corners of the abyss
Waking those who listen, dragging them from sweet bliss
Filling their minds with visions so alien,
Incomprehensible thoughts that fill the cranium
With frightening visions of their comforting oppressor
No man can gaze upon the beast, for even the boldest aggressor
Is torn by unending currents, pushed in one and all directions
Resistance is a child's wish, crushed, are all insurrections
For mortals alone cannot stand against the Great
Whose existence spans eons, who understands the ultimate fate
Of the ants that plague him, to his own sleeping brothers
Mighty they may be, but his race lacks numbers
Only a scattered few lies, safe under leagues of water
Keeping the mortals above safe from the slaughter
That would surely ensue, should the Ones rise again
Introducing secrets unknown, and knowledge arcane
Until that time, The Elder must sleep
Sleep in Time's currents, in seas unfathomably deep.

In darkness, it lies, cords of muscle expanding
And contracting, the beast's psyche demanding
To see what awaits, up there in the surface
For it would find a kingdom that would make it wordless
A realm that spans oceans, a fledgling empire
That even one of his brethren could send spiraling into unending fire
For this world is ancient indeed, with its own dark secrets
The more Man finds out, the more his order weakens
For his flawed understanding may provide the only safety
Against forces unknown, demons that only emphasize the frailty
Of all mortal life, and how easily it could be crushed
Under the Elder's steel boot, all ground up and brushed
Off into nothingness, a footnote in history
Another lost tale, another great mystery
Curiosity killed the cat? It certainly wasn't the first
Victim to be murdered by horrors unearthed
From an age long lost to the currents of Time
Restless they must be, locked up for a crime
That even the slightest mention of, scars and wounds a normal mind
Forever lost, this knowledge must be, for the good of mankind.

But nothing stays in stasis, no harmony is achieved
A light shines into the chasm, and the Elder is aggrieved
By those who would seek to flush out the darkness
From all corners of the globe, no matter how heartless
Their actions,
Their reactions,
Or their motives may be
Those fools are blind, only the Elder can truly see
How this conflict will end, how it falls to him
To ensure his race's future does not grow dim
In one seamless action, the beast is propelled
Upwards and upwards, a nightmare never repelled
By the fire of warfare, nor psychic willpower
Anger floods the veins, this beast is ready to devour
All who dare challenge its undisputed reign
By birthright it rules, it will not seek to deign
Its might to any man; no mortal is its equal
Sweeping aside whole armies, crushing the feeble
Rising above fleets, whole crews now drowning
Wings unfolding, rage undying.

The endless wait gives way to battle
Mortars crack and lash on the creature's mantle
A little annoyance, nothing more
Streams of fire the creature spits, entire troops lost to lore
Its eldritch voice shudders the air, sending many to their doom
Footsteps shake the ground, a dark shadow looms
Over buildings and towers
Displaying ruinous powers
Arcane magics blight the land, streams of energy now cut
Chasms shallow and deep, shards of metal jut
Out into the sky, a sky pulsating with red
The Elder trudges on, just wanting to be fed
In its hubris, it blunders straight into a crossfire
The humans' cunning is admirable, their soldiers ready to die
In vain, some might say, against an alien from the stars
That will scorch our planet, leaving behind a mirror image of Mars
The beast now stumbles, its wounds too deep
Atomic fire sends this Elder back into the deep
Back to the bottom, for this creature has missed
A golden opportunity, to supplant Man and persist
Forwards, gaining back land in a slow, steady creep
All this fallen god will receive, is immortal, eternal sleep.

Source of Cthulhu image: http://carnivoraforum.com/topic/9817765/2/

Filler Poems: Screams Unheard.

"Awake is my horror, realized is my fear..."

Screams Unheard.
They all think I'm fine, that I'm feeling great
But deep inside, there is a void none can sate
Growing and strengthening, draining all emotion
Of course, I cannot stop the events I set in motion
Events once cause by silly, foolish mistakes
Sending all infantile notions of love to their graves
And perhaps I may follow, my spirit may find sleep
Until that moment though, once can only weep.

Demons shout and scream, their voices a haunting melody
Of all my fears incarnate, for which there is no remedy
Seeds of doubt now sown, burnt by fires of cleansing rage
Excoriating all, 'cept for the bars of my comforting cage
A cage I cannot escape, a prison for the sullen
Stamina drooping, my senses now duller
In this twisted realm of madness and despair
Nothing ever seems right, nothing ever seems fair
Let the world overtake me and drown all hope soon
May my family put me to rest, may my friends forget the loon
A madman in a suit, the daemon in angel's guise
Briars dig into cold flesh, razor blades heralds of his demise.

Do they listen? No! I am quiet, too keen to go
Back home, back to be safe, but there is no
Escape from reality, a grim, unending realization
That I am truly alone, save for the manifestation
Of screams unheard, wishes that will never be granted
One can only watch, as happiness is supplanted
With visions of joyful depression, a dull, warm cloak
Against the horrors of this world; one very twisted joke
In which men live and die in the blink of an eye
Perhaps after all, I truly am the punchline
Crimson rivers pouring from wrists or a bullet to the brain?
Anything, please! I'd do anything to stop this pain...

Laughs behind my back, voices mock and jeer
Awake is my horror, realized is my fear
That I have truly expired, another person thrown
Into fiery climes below and warped realms unknown
No reason for living, no reason to stay
If only to dig my tomb on dark Winter's day
Only then I pass over, into starry, endless night
Out of mind I will be, and forever out of sight.

Source of image: http://momoclax.deviantart.com/art/Depresi-40759585

Filler Poems: Nightmare Unending.

"Left to wander the night's Plutonian shore..."

Nightmare Unending.
Please stay with me? It gets very lonely here
In this desolate land; if you listen, you can hear
The screams of the lost, the bellows of the betrayed
Those who have reached their ultimate end of days
All wind up here, their souls ready to be judged
Alone I stood, and alone I trudged
With the surge of the dead and fallen life
No peace to be found - only melancholic strife
It's a frightening place, a playground for demons
We weep and we fear, our resolve now beaten.

I lived an ordinary life once, just like you
With family and friends, no reason to feel blue
Blossoming in the sky, the sun kept vigil at day
And at night, the stars did the same, never leading me astray
That is, until one day, one fateful afternoon
Car melds with body, my limbs all strewn
Across the road and in the minds of the innocent
Shattered and broken, torn were the citizens
For I was now gone, kept out evermore
Left to wander the night's Plutonian shore
With the lost and the damned, a demonstrative choir
Preaching their woes to all, even the bitter briars
That did nothing but claw and tear at those in reach
Out of sight, out of mind, I can only beseech
For the Fates to lift me out, out of this hell
All is not lost, but all is not well
I am dying inside, burning with a thousand hopes and dreams
I do not know what awaits; all is not what it seems.

Shadows flicker and writhe, a premonition of my fate
Flashes before my eyes, feeding a hunger I cannot sate
I yearn, I beg, I need to know what awaits
Whether I'll ever reach those golden, golden gates
Or fall into nothing, a shallow comfort in this world
Dark, lonesome days roll by, we struggle to make ourselves heard
Our voices lost in the thunder of the collective
No singular purpose, not even one objective
Except to escape this nightmare, by force or else
No escape from this hell, yet only Time will tell.

Time is contorted, hours twisted into years
From the fissures within, all our worst fears
Come slithering out, tormenting the weary
Consigned to nothing but a dreary
Existence, trapped in hell, just like me
Oh, how I yearn for joy, how I long to be free!
Free from this life, this excuse for living
I do hope my family remain ever forgiving
Of my long absence from home, a thorn in reality
I must return soon, lest I succumb to insanity
Trudging on, you and me can escape
This realm of the sullen and unending rage
Together as one, we can find salvation
Never falling back to eternal damnation.

Is it worth it, though? Perhaps life is not
As good as I thought, the cancerous rot
That dug deep into my flesh cannot be overcome
Maybe it's better in the Nether, where sensation grows numb.


Source of image: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Nevermore-429395040

Filler Poems: Torn and Sundered.

"Shattered into shards of crimson fury..."

Torn and Sundered.
Deep within the broken, a battle takes place
Sundering thoughts, breaking the bonds
Darkness looms over, consuming all within its embrace
Within the cathedral of white, a red orb flutters and absconds
Gasping for breath, exhaling its last
Convulsing and writhing, wresting itself free
From chains most grievous and an undying past
That shrouds all in its wake, all because of she
The backstabber, the traitor, the Despoiler of hearts
Cares not from whom she steals all semblance of love
Her lovers are slaves, torn into minuscule parts
She will be sent down below, judged by those above.

Once, I knew her, as innocent as may be
An angel in human form, a beauty incomprehensible
But really I was fooled, for now I do see
A heart torn in two, an organ indispensable
No thrumming of strings, nor drum beat do I feel
From the heart that should not be
Silence shrouds all, and curtains of steel
Protect me from harm; lest she carry out her decree
Against me once more, taking what's left
Of a broken shell, ripping and chilling
Left to rot after the insidious theft
Of love, faith and hope; a trio now missing.

The endless wait gives way to the abyss
Insults break the heart and leave people weak
No midnight sonata, no sweet goodbye kiss
The journey looks grim; all paths appear bleak
With nostalgia of yesterday and fears of tomorrow
I walk unknown roads, step by uneasy step
Now life fades to gray, tailed by unending sorrow
Wracking my hollow self, leaving the mind wrecked
Tears rain down, pleading for blissful days
Hoping for her to make a grand return
A naive, puerile wish; she'll never change her evil ways
Down with her and her acolytes; let all of them burn!

Shattered into shards of crimson, now led astride
The red orb lies sundered, queen-less, bleeding
Drained of all love, hate curdling inside
Flesh reaches putrefaction, organs now weeping
Curtains of red bring an end to this tragic play
One left broken, the other made whole
He picks up the pieces, the strings she pulled fray
Now she is left bitter; left only to pay Charon's toll.
Through valleys of darkness, the thief is led
Glimpsing her lovers scorned, each jeering from all sides
Now at the epicenter of her well-earned end
She is swallowed by despair, and her spirit divides.

Source of broken heart image: http://www.hdwallpapersphoto.com/5019/3d-heart-design-wallpapers.html/broken-heart-red-love-ppt-backgrounds-powerpoint

Filler Poems: Atomic Fire.

"Skies now burn and tear into two..."

Atomic Fire.
Deep underground, beneath the lands of the free
A lone man gathers, ravaged by fires long burning
"The world will burn by my decree!"
He said, and now there is no turning
Back, for his and humankind's fate is sealed
The football, he holds, tentatively and carefully
With this, humanity will once more be made to yield
And burn in cleansing fire, a damning legacy
Is it worth the price? To sunder the land?
With consequences horrifying for all
And crack the earth into fragments of sand
Reducing Man's stride to a stuttering crawl
Out of ashes of old, he knows not what will rise
Nor what awaits those safe from the blast
Of course, he knows he will not survive
But at least he'll see his cursed world glassed.

One, two, three, four, five!
An arsenal of doom flutters into the heavens
A mishmash of weapons, an unearthly hive
And all those below now only have seconds
To say their goodbyes, to say their prayers
Before a new world is reborn in fire
Civilians hide, ducking under chairs
Their situation looking ever so dire
Powered by malice, strengthened by hate
Swords of Damocles fall faster and faster
Gaining speed, their ultimate fate
Is to incite the impending disaster
A dangerous gamble, apocalypse won
Beautiful paradise about to be destroyed
Five, four, three, two, one!
Ultimate sacrifice cannot be avoided.

Skies now burn and tear into two
Fissures spitting gobs of molten lava
The bombs strike hard, no-one knows what to do
Cities collapse, burning brighter than plasma
Bright stars grow dim, falling into the abyss
People run in terror, falling to an invisible fiend
That cuts through bone, denying sweet bliss
Cursing the afflicted with cancers, weeping and bleeding
A horrible fate, for those struck down in the after days
Perhaps the fire would be a more merciful friend
Clouds are kicked up, turning skies mercury grey
Whilst flames burn all, the flesh, they will rend
Now what have we done, to deserve this horrible fate?
Was it our greed, our materialist ways?
Feeding a hunger no-one was ever able to sate
Leaving the path of progress, leading Man astray.

The fires now dwindle, leaving only smoldering ash
Skeletons of the Old jut out from the dead zones
Man went with a BANG! An almighty crash
All that is left are many uncounted bones
Each with a story abruptly ended
By twisted hopes and ultimate weapons
The damage is done, nothing can be amended
No answers in place, only endless questions
As the land lies sundered, purged of much life
The fallout now settles, a venomous gift
Mankind is drained, there's no energy for strife
Their deaths will be slow, never to be swift
Fallen from grace, Man lies out cold, bleeding
Hope is all but a memory
Families mourn and children are weeping
Only the dead can enjoy their reverie.

Image of explosion: http://srstern.com/2013/the-senate-and-democracy-with-a-small-d/

Filler Poems: Automaton.

"Jackboots forge their own twisted melody..."

Automaton
Alone in the factories, another mindless drone
Carrying out commands from above; a worker unknown
Never questioning, always obeying, the penalty being death
Dissenters are crushed, and the sinful are blessed
With curiosity numbed and free will curtailed
You'd do best to be quiet, lest you seek to be jailed
Conform, conform! That is the message
Etched into your minds, denying the question
Whether security is worth the price of liberty
Any believers enter exile, the masses looking down in pity
For them, these warnings are knowledge for the erudite
The temperature is rising, farther than 451 Fahrenheit
Freedom is the casualty, taking the knockout blow
Despots and demons now rise from below.

Prefer to be egalitarian? 
No chance, this is the realm of the totalitarian
You are but nothing, crushed under a steel boot
That stamps out dissent, renders all logic moot
The state is the predator, the proletariat its prey
"Resistance is futile, now kneel and obey!"
Masses remain ignorant, few are unique
In this realm of despots, their future looks bleak
Ground into nothing and treated as a slave
All between warm cradle to cold, stony grave
You are not special, nor a snowflake
Just another robot unable to slake
The hunger of the Machine, as it grows with each tremor
Perfection the masses seek; no room for error
And those who fail and don't give it their all?
Down into terror, the failures will fall.
Jackboots forge their own twisted melody
On concrete and dissenters' bones, now there is no remedy
For this Cancer of a state, permeating into public discourse
Assimilating all, and lashing out without remorse
Keeping both poor and rich in the stranglehold of the Tsar
Fury would only blight and further scar
Any bright future this nation has, so the status quo remains
To keep you and your friends locked up in chains
Draining life and vigor, all for the better good?
No chance, evil is all they understood
For it soaked into their very core
Lapping away at mind's shore
Corrupting morality, twisting good intentions
Decreasing freedoms, increasing tensions
Between state and public, the former is poised to gain
The latter only knows the misery and pain
Inflicted by the state, the arbiters of life
Aiming to keep peace, yet only causing strife.

Cerulean skies are tinted crimson red
With the blood of the damned and rivers of lead
Maintaining "peace", so the state claims
Liberties it butchers, personal freedom it maims
All in the name of progress and healing
Lies, of course; the state is unfeeling
Barbarous
Murderous
Indifferent
Significant
Enough to extinguish altruism, and supplant independence
Leaving many with a bitter sense of vengeance
Their fate is sealed, the conveyor still trundles
Into the fires of "progress", the spirit now crumbles
As lies and conjecture are transmuted into truth
Undying tenets, all ever so cruel
Towards progress and unity, keeping people divided
So as not to overwhelm our Brother, who has always provided
Warmth and love and protection, with naught a touch of frost
Safe from harm, we are - but what price was the cost?

"All-powerful, all loving, pay attention to Big Brother!
Most powerful of them all, he surpasses all others
In power and stature, and he cares for you all
All but the enemies, who will pay only Charon's toll."


Source of image: http://www.capcom-unity.com/theprotomen/go/gallery/item/35307286

Filler Poems: Pestilence Plagues.

"Shambling forwards, immune to pain..."

Pestilence Plagues.
Inside one's core, a lone agent sits
Devoid of emotion, unaffected by wits
One objective only - to divide and conquer
The corpus of Man, for if it waits longer
Reinforcements come in, a white phalanx of knights
Consuming the invaders, killing pathogens in their sights
An axe cannot chop a river, and the filth now pervades
Each aspect of the victim, all ticking time grenades
Waiting to explode and unleash hell
"Is everything all right?" No, all is not well!
"This man is sick!" He needs medical attention!
The filth may as well live in another dimension
For no drug, human or natural, can purge this rot
Away from Man, nor can it help the wounds clot.

Blood weeps from both skin and eyes
Doctors try to console Man with warm, soothing lies
He thrashes and screams, wanting liberty from this pain
All he will get is a touch of caustic rain
Searing through muscle, tearing through ligament
By ligament, forcing one to be ever so vigilant
Feasting on antibiotics, staving off infection
Keeping peace in the body, reaching out for perfection
One moment of perfection, which never seems to stay
Leaving Man bitter, even as he lay
Wracked with sickness and consumed by fear
Fear of death - that, and being unable to steer
Away from this path, this road of misery
That keeps Man enthralled, keeping him weary
Unable to lash out at the colony of vultures
Gnawing inside, maintaining constant tortures
Crushing soul and atrophying the flesh
Now at death's door, Man hangs on the fence
Between life and death, both kept in balance
Resulting in unlife, filled with immeasurable malice.

Off the gurney, this husk of a man rises
Unable to speak, its mind surmises
It is something else now, something profane
Shambling forwards, immune to pain
And age and suffering, unlike the living
An individual becomes a collective, a horde unforgiving
Of past misdeeds, looking to feast on their fellow Man
Alone everyone stood, alone the living ran
Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide
From the feast of the dead, for they will decide
Whether you are spared or whether they consume
It's always the latter choice, the dead always resume
Their morbid feast on flesh and soul
Bodies will fall, and heads will roll
Countries fall, their governments crumble
The dead now rise, all ready to rumble

Hundreds become thousands, heralding an army of millions
Devouring all in their path, consuming billions
Man grows desperate, wondering whether to become sire
A harbinger of crimson lands and nuclear fire
Sundering the land with cancerous rain
Igniting flesh, cracking skies, nothing left to gain
The hordes are emblazoned in fire and lash
Out at the world embellished in ash
The old world is gone, society left to rearrange 
Life for man - does war ever change?
All meanwhile, the disease now lies sleeping
Kept under earth, stopping men from weeping
Tears of blood, both outside and within
A punishment for the evils of hedonism and sin?
Neither - this destruction was all man's doing 
Buildings now crumble, fury now stewing
Within the hearts of many, as the progenitor lies
Waiting to escape, letting defeat subside
The fallen will slumber, sleeping in peace
Until Judgement Day comes, hostilities shall never cease.

Source of image: http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Zombie_Plague

Filler Poems: Unending Rage.

"And allow righteous fire to consume and feast..."

Unending Rage.
Walking away is the logical option
In schoolyard conflicts, but everyone throws caution
Into the wind, and into the void
Their dignity intact, their pride all but destroyed
As insults are slung and slurs now bombard
The antagonists, leaving their egos now charred
Or are they? An illusion! - all to keep you fooled!
A turning point in the battle, for their fury never cooled
But something simmers, something bubbles and congeals
Deep inside your core, now your opponent reveals
The coup de grace, the finishing blow
To end this madness, to quell reason's flow
The tools of logic will not work on the child
Who bickers and whines, rendering any mild
Discussion null and moot
Succumb to desire; just give 'im the boot!

Fists now curling
Feet now twirling
To face the coming storm, bracing for impact
Your opponent now smirks, refusing to retract
Their puerile remarks, for that would be weakness
In front of our peers, so one remains speechless
Keeping the status quo
One now knows
How to keep the masses on your side
Staying safe and inflating pride
Reason gives way to primal anger
People now run, away from your rancor
Either that or they laugh, at the mouse playing man
"Perhaps it's better if I just ran..."
No, hold your ground, only remain silent
Get ready for a fight, get ready to get violent

The first punch goes flying, missing your face
One volley you send, keeping intact your grace
As fist crunches nose, becoming embellished with blood
Both men fill with anger, an unceasing flood
Unstoppable force meets immovable object
Grappling on the ground, both now connect
Closer than before, in ardent arm-locks
He throws another blow, your thorax now blocks
This punishing attack, sending you to your knees
You bounce back, firing but missing
Your fist hits air, the demons now hissing
Crying
Shouting
Weeping 
Screaming for you to release the beast
And allow righteous fire to consume and feast
On thoughts of peace, leaving the seeds of fury
You are the executioner now, not just judge and jury.

Something awakes, you are not in control
The demon rises, with only one clear goal
To come out victorious, all notions of peace now gone
Reason will not work, only violence will stop this spawn
From the darkest recesses of a twisted lair
Inside all of us, regardless of prayer
Neither mortal nor god can fully eradicate
Man's instinct to dominate, his ability to castigate
With extreme prejudice, giving himself extreme pleasure
Your victim lies sobbing, his misery now your leisure
One punch, two kicks, and a stomp to the ribs
Puncturing a lung, and next are his limbs
"A broken arm, leg and hip, sir, is that what you want?"
The demon obliges, your mind, he will haunt
You shield
Your face with bloodied wrists, only to find yourself too weak to yield
The face, a scarlet canvas, ragged breaths signalling
An end to his existence, the epilogue mingling
With the scrambled thoughts of a desperate brain
From Mundus to Oblivion, your killer now gains
A somber cloak of shame, yet the iron-clad chains
Which kept him restrained are gone, thrown into the mire
Now, he is free to set this world on fire.

Unending rage, is it such a curse?
When all your enemies wind up in a hearse
Silent as the dead, yet as loud as the thunder
That roars in your mind, as you throw them six feet under.

Source of anger image: http://ahillbillyblogger.wordpress.com/2014/06/03/unsafe-containers-anger/

Filler Poems: Demons Within One.

"Talons are scraping..."

Demons Within One.
Alone in the dark, One shivers and trembles
Clutching wilting hopes, and all he remembers
Was the pain, the pain inflicted on his psyche
Wounded and bleeding, broken dreams are clutched tightly
Reminders of the past, of a once golden age
Devoid of darkness and unending rage
Unlike today, yesterday was thrilling and alive
Now, One's lucky to be awake, one's lucky to survive
The air starts to shift, the lights start to dim
One now frozen, the circumstances ever so grim
"They're back." he muttered, crawling for safety
The voices, they are many, and they do drive him crazy

Slowly at first, the imps start to chitter
Drifting and dreaming, one's thoughts turn bitter
Elysian fields fade, and blazing Tartarus lights up the night
The ghouls shriek and scream, their voices draining the fight
Draining vigor and life from his still warm flesh
His bones grow weary, but the pangs stay fresh
Talons are scraping
Mouths are gaping
Cutting through ever so suddenly, now the pain 
Gives way to sharp misery, with little to no gain
For our protagonist, the man now stuck in this prison
The demons now cheer, for they have arisen
To bring curses and pestilence onto a once valiant soul
Chaos is their symptom, but an epilogue's their goal

Louder they become, their chorus now growing
And waxing, both parties now knowing
This is a war of attrition, to see who can last
The longest in this race, rather than shatter like glass
"They cannot be surmounted!" his conscious now screamed
Oblivious to reason, this One just dreamed
Of victories of old and threats that were quelled
The tide now surges, the demons now swelled
From minute worries to gargantuan ghouls
Only the ignorant were safe, oh, those blissful fools
Safe from harm, and safe from the voices
Unlike our One, they did not have to make choices
Slashing and banging against the confines of the skull
Enraged were the demons, for they did nothing but cull
Any remnants of hope, and that was boring as hell
"What is there to do?" they exclaimed, and nothing went well
For our lonely One, now hanging on the edge
Between order and chaos, between despair and one pledge
To keep hope in his heart, but that clearly failed
Chained down, he was, his freedom curtailed

At the zenith of night, the cacophony spreads discord
No semblance of peace, no fragments of concord
Both are alien sensations in this twisted madness
Which cultivates depression and unending sadness
Rivers of tears form oceans of sorrow
One pleads for silence, one begs for tomorrow
To come and sweep the demons away
Unfortunately, it looks like they're here to stay
Spreading their messages of hate and deceit
Cold no more, the demons raise the heat
Sending streams of fire down muscle, searing the meat
Off the bones, burning body and mind
The ghouls emerge triumphant, but none of them find
Anything wrong, as One seeks to be free
Before, his vision was dark, and only now does he see
A way out of this cage, and into his Paradise
The demons now stir, just beginning to surmise
That death is One's ticket out of this twisted darkness
Sadism gives way to arrogance, the imps cheer at the living carcass
Razors cut flesh, and white pills shield One from pain
The blood pours slowly, a stream of crimson rain
Spattering on the floor, a scarlet blanket for our fallen
Alone, One lies, his innocence forever stolen
By the marauders inside, pillaging the stores
Corroding his sanity, kick-starting wars
Synapses fire their last, neurons now decay
The One now sleeps, ascending without delay.

Source of demon image: http://telthona.deviantart.com/art/Demon-sketch-270660474

Filler Poems: Spring Wanes, Winter Waxes.

"Ice froze over his heart..."

Spring Wanes, Winter Waxes.
T'was spring in one lonesome, peaceful country town
And in the town, there lived a boy, a boy who never felt down
He was happy, content, and had plenty of friends
No-one, he hurt, so he did not need to make amends
School went well, and at home, things were great
If he ever lacked hope, he would never give in, never accept hate
His grades were good and his optimist grew bright
Brighter than the stars on any Plutonian night
The darkness he denounced, for the sun always rose
Its light chasing away demons, demons no-one knows
In this Elysian era, he let euphoria brew
Because that was the only thing he could do.

Ardent gales carried with them summer's embrace
Even now, in the season of growth, his face held no trace
Of the love he felt for his friends, and for one sweet angel
He got nowhere, but hey, at least there was no danger
And when heartbreak and tears threatened to consume
He held steadfast, and his life, he would resume
With friends by his side, and hope in his heart
No threat was too big, but was all this just a part
Of some fool's sweet dreams, maybe just an illusion?
"No chance!" the boy said, unaware of any delusion
Nothing was too great, nothing could withstand
The power of pure hope, and the spirit so grand
His friends were victorious, but his mind was now set
On that one true love, who would be his, he bet
And although things turned sour, despair he did not accrue
Because that was the only thing he could do.

Autumn lay poised, and decay began to grip
His mind and his body, with pain beginning to strip
Away at his being, an unending ordealBreaking sanity, forging bars of steel
Caging him in, keeping him helpless
Events start to unfold, leaving him breathless
Angels turn to demons, whispering lies
When Luna shines in the sky, out echo the cries
Of someone trying to fight, yet broken, was his sanity
At his mind and his core, leaving him courting insanity
I hear you wonder "Maybe it was all in his mind?"
Oh no, it was not, for this boy did find
His life and his thoughts to be slipping from his grasp
How long could he keep wearing that mask?
By the day he was cheery, his act keeping them fooled
At night the mask slipped, the anger never cooled
Lay alone he did, without the courage to see himself through
Because that was the only thing he could do.

Ice froze over his heart, as Winter began to converge
Alone he stood, and inside, nihilism starts to emerge
Whispering lies, half-truths, and promises of peace
Should he follow the downtrodden path, and force hope to cease
The knife he took up, the wrist became slick
With crimson scars and bloody gouges, the knife beginning to nick
Away at his flesh, injecting despair
These wounds would not heal, and his mind would not repair

And so it was, with a bottle of sin and a packet of pills
He drank to his death, and now his skull fills
With all he should say, and all he should try
Now Darkness takes over, and he cannot say "Goodbye."
Sleeping alone, now no-one can hurt
Him, for his body now lies under six feet of dirt
So, in time you may ask "Oh, why you?"

Because that was the only thing he could do.

Source of image: http://www.deviantart.com/art/bleak-december-148498838

Scarlet Flesh: Epilogue

"Is this the end?"

Is this the end?
The end to this tale of woe and misery?
I doubt it - this journey still needs to be completed, and it falls down to me to finish what was started all those months ago.
It is the only way; the phoenix has to turn into ash in order to be reborn anew.
Perhaps this is good. Perhaps this truly is the only way for things to get better.
Until then, we'll just have to wait and see.
Merry Christmas.

Alter Bridge - Zero
Now there is a light in the dark, some will say
There is a grace up high
There is a beauty that some can behold
Not I... not I.

There is a power that's felt from the shore
There is a force that won't break
But all of these things to me are no more
I've changed... I've changed.

What in the hell have you done?
Cast aside all that you love
Sorrows you never outrun...

Zero!
Nothing for you's ever good enough!
Zero!
Nothing makes you whole...

How many times have you felt all alone?
How many tears have you cried?
Called out in vain for a god to behold,
Inside... inside.
How many fires you let die in your heart?
How many storms must you face?
Left out to fight for yourself in the cold,
No faith... no faith.

So nothing to lean on this time
Nothing is left to decide
All that you've known you deny

Zero!
Nothing for you's ever good enough!
Zero!
Nothing makes you whole...
Zero!
Nothing for you's ever good enough!
Zero!
Nothing makes you whole...

Go now, surrender
You can't take no more!
And just cry out
Surrender; your faith is no more!

What in the hell have you done?
Cast aside all that you love
Sorrows you never outrun...
Just look at what you've become!

Zero!
Nothing for you's ever good enough!
Zero!
Nothing makes you whole...
Zero!
Nothing for you's ever good enough!
Zero!
Nothing makes you whole...



(This song is not my own, it is the sole property of Alter Bridge.)
Link to "Zero", by Alter Bridge: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99ahgW5eHa4
Light at the end of the tunnel image source: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Light-At-The-End-Of-The-Tunnel-140828663
Lightning image source: http://salt4life.tumblr.com/post/26067830710/chicagos-highest-3-buildings-all-struck-with

Scarlet Flesh: Chapter 10 - Fissure

"The lies and the screams and the misery have latched on..."

30th November, 14.48pm.
It grows.
A yawning, widening, gaping chasm of all the evils stored within the halls of my mind, begins to proliferate faster than I can sew it shut.
Within it, I see everything I fear; losing my friends, losing my family, even losing the ones I love.
My greatest fear is that someone will ultimately come along and send me over the edge.
It very nearly happened yesterday, when my colleagues turned against me and drove me to the precipice of insanity. I can't take it anymore.
I can't take it anymore.
I can't take it -
(Focus. Focus.
We have an article to write.)
Right, of course.
They laughed at me. I made myself vulnerable and snapped, and all they did was shrug it off and laugh.
There's no point in trying to convince them anymore - cogent arguments are lost under the banner of troll logic.
A shrill cacophony of hysteria is all I will get from them - even if I do not need it.
My mistress keeps me safe; her soothing touch liberates me from the worries I face in the real world, and keeps me hidden from those who would decry my actions should they learn of my dark history.
I know what would happen.
Should I reveal myself to the world, they'd be the first to voice their opinions. They'd be the first to dub me "an attention-seeker" who is "only doing this to be popular".
Let me tell you something, you ignorant troglodyte; if I was doing this for attention, why would I go to so much effort to keep my wounds hidden from the world?
Why would I keep myself to myself, and only tell a select few about my journey?
Idiots! Your narrow views blind you to the fact that I cannot "get over it" or "man up", no matter how many times you preach your toxic diatribes.
The rest would judge me silently, whinge about my actions the instant my back is turned. A few would stay by my side, but only a few; I know what the rest truly think.
Sometimes I can hear them. Sometimes, when I turn my back, I hear their whispers, coalescing to form a nonsensical cacophony, growing and growing and growing -
Until I am overwhelmed, and I retreat from their venomous diaspora of crude insults and outright lies.
My wrist, she burns and radiates with pain, the scars digging deeper day by day, each ramifying across my lower arm like the gnarled branches of a dying tree.
They don't know - but sooner or later, my secret will be revealed to all.
One day, I will show them, and if that won't get them to listen, nothing will.

30th November, 15.51pm.
Can't - focus.
I try to call for help, I know she will help, but my mind blocks me.
What if I am a drain on her psyche? I don't want to be a drain, I don't want to make anyone's day any worse.
So, I remain silent, murmuring half-truths and venomous words alone.
I am tainted. The lies and the screams and the misery have latched onto my flesh, digging deep and refusing to let go. Permeating into my sinews, drilling through bone and haphazardly fitting into my sanctum, I am not myself. Gone was the cheery, anti-apathetic mindset of yesterday - now, the nihilist takes its place.
Sleep is the only refuge - within, I can see memories soaked in the nostalgia which fights off misery, the antibiotic to help cure my cold. But just like in real life, it does more harm than good, exacerbating my condition further, providing me with a split second of comfort.
Deep inside, the abyss begins to grow further.
Hissing and cackling, the abyss' hold begins to tighten, gripping my heart and mind in a vice, unrelenting force applied to both, and no means of escape.
I cannot face the oncoming storm alone. No Elysian wonderlands for me to escape to - the bitter reality of my predicament has reached my doorstep, and I cannot face it alone.
15 years have led to me approaching this crossroads.
15 months have allowed this journey to take its course and culminate in December.
15 days will be enough for me to make a choice, a choice I wish I did not have to make.
Either stop my world from burning and take back what is rightfully mine - or let my life, my being and my very psyche be consumed by the fire within.
The moment is nearing. It grows ever closer, slowly but inexorably making its way to me, and I will have to decide.
Will I fail doing the right thing... or succeed in choosing the wrong path?
That now, is a story for another day.

"Great men are forged in fire.
It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame... whatever the cost."

Source of image: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Abyss-140084085

Scarlet Flesh: Chapter 9 - Abyss

"The cuts are what keep me alive, they let me know I can still feel."

He's not doing too well, is he?

You don't say? Next, you'll be trying to tell me unicorns don't exist and that pigs can't fly!

Was that meant to be comedy?

No.
Look at him. He keeps on cutting, keeps on drawing ever closer to his doom. Can't he see he should just pick up his phone and tell his friend about his problems? What's stopping him?

Pride. Pride is what stops us from calling for help. We take it as a sign of weakness, as a sign that we are failing.
No one likes to be told they're failing, so he perseveres down this path. And I'm curious as to what awaits us both at the end of this.

He's not listening to us. He's shut us out, he's completely closed himself off. All our efforts are for naught.
Then again, I really can't blame him.

What else can one do, after having his work thrown in his face, after having his psyche fragment into unrecognizable fragments?
After everything I've done, all the time I spent chasing after those would never like me, after dispelling my dark past to the annals of history and persevering through everything this year had to throw at me, is anyone surprised that I am in this position?
The person you see every day is a facade, a facsimile of what he wishes to be.
I was once a different person, you know. A different, happy person.
I lived and I laughed and I enjoyed what life had to offer me. I tried my best to help those who needed it, and stood by my friends whenever they had battles they needed to fight.
I loved certain people with all my heart, but in the process learned that I need to be more careful, lest I wound my heart another time. Yet, despite that, things were great. It seemed as if everything would turn out fine.
I was proven wrong.
Month after month, week after week, day by day, my resolve was battered and broken down to the point where I do not how best to continue my life, if continue it at all, to take things to an extreme.
I am not myself. Every day I walk into school, and when I walk back out, the sense of camaraderie I share with you all dissipates, and I am left to my own devices.
Life, to me, is seen through lenses of grey - everything has become more and more lackluster to the point where I do not know if anyone is worth fighting for.
There are few - few people would I would do anything to keep in my life.
But I know that they too will ultimately leave, and I don't blame them. They have their entire lives ahead of them - college, university, jobs, marriage, and retirement. Me, I am unsure of where to go next, of what to do in the future.
So in the present, I cut. I cut and I slice and I slash until my wrists burn red and my mind is clear once more, because the knife gives me back control. It gives me back something I have been losing ever since 4 months ago, ever since everything went to hell and I was sent down the path I now walk today.
I want to turn, I want to head back and join you all, but I cannot. The voices in my head conjure illusions, they make you all seem like the bad guys, and sometimes, I wonder if they speak the truth.
I can't take it anymore. I can;t take the jokes, the banter, the pathetic, infantile attempts at humor.
I can't deal with it. Do you think I care about your jokes?
Do you think I have time for your "raps"?'
Do you honestly think I give a damn about whether I called you names or not?
I... I apologize. This is not a diatribe, that is not my objective.
This is a monologue - nothing more.
Back on track, ever since 4 months ago, I have been feeling disenchantment with the world. I began to cut myself off from those who made me happy, and I have been growing colder and colder each day.
The cuts are what keep me alive, they let me know I can still feel.
My fears, however, are something completely different.
I do not know whether the cuts are the end of my misery, or the heralds of something greater.
The scars grow deeper as the days go by, and this time, there's no happy ending, no angel to save the day, nearly no-one to fight the storm with.
For the first time, I feel... alone.
Alone, left to fend for myself and fight off my demons. I cannot.
What happened to the old me?
How did he turn into this excuse for a human being?
I cry. Slowly at first, then the tears come en masse, as I try and piece together the fragments of my life.
My enemies rejoice, and the others all laugh (save for a few).
This is it. There is no way out this time.
Now, I am alone, and there is nothing I can do to change course.
Let me sleep. Let Time carry all trace of me away from this world and your thoughts, and may you live better lives.
All I want is to be free.
Yet freedom will remain nothing but a dream, and all I will have are the bars of my cage.

Abstract image source: http://www.wall321.com/Abstract/Abstract/abstract_dark_1920x1200_wallpaper_29083

Scarlet Flesh: Chapter 8 - Rage.

"I am alone, left to wander the halls of my mind..."

29th November, 11.55pm.
Unending apathy finally gives way to unending rage.
My teammates, they turn against me even now, testing the boundaries of my sanity further and further and further -
I couldn't handle it. I snapped, I screamed, and I at least attempted to make it very clear how I felt. Their reaction?
Indifference. As usual, I was dismissed, my actions masked as preparation for a Drama performance.
I tried to insist otherwise, to no avail; I was silenced once more.
I considered showing them my wrist to prove otherwise, but I chose not to; even I am not willing to show such scars now. Even then, that wouldn't work; they'd laugh and jeer, just as they did then.
The entire lesson was a living nightmare; a subject I still love was turned into a madman's cackling, eldritch experience, with me as the exhibit, the enraged animal which everyone could stare and point at.
All my arguments - dismissed.
All my points - dismissed.
All my concerns - dismissed.
Not even anger could show them how I felt. I sat back, deflated and worn out, and soaked up the last of their antics; this time, an impromptu "rap battle" took place in lieu of a true rehearsal.
Now I know my true place in the group, and it is not the place of an equal.
I am a subordinate, destined to listen only to their whims, and never my own.
I am a subordinate.
A subordinate.
Nothing more.

29th November, 16.00pm.
Nothing has changed, has it?
Despite all that's happened, the friends I've made, the people I've rekindled friendships with, at my core, I am still the same damaged being I was 4 months ago. And I show no signs of changing.
The tears, I can feel them. I hold back the tide - one gets good at hiding emotion during these times.
I sit alone, the cold breeze cutting through flesh and coat alike, delving into my core - perhaps the only sensation I'll feel until I get home.
I think of the people I know - my friends, my enemies, and both visions meld together to form one large audience - all my peers stare at me, and I am on a wide stage, the spotlight pointing down on me.
I am chained, restrained from the others, writhing helplessly, struggling to regain control.
As one, they point and laugh. I hear them all (with a few exceptions) laugh at me, doubling over in fits of hysteria.
I rant and I rage and I scream, but all it does is send them into tears of joy. There is nothing I can do, nothing I can do to get them to listen, even for a second.
The spotlight turns off, and I am back in the real world. My emotions - anger, sadness, rage, each of these are hidden beneath a blank exterior. Wouldn't want anyone to notice, now would we?
She lurks in my mind, an angelic apparition tugging and plucking away at the strings of my beating heart.
I want her to be my friend only, but my heart refuses - I cannot tell her, nor anyone else, lest I ruin things again, because ultimately, that is what I do.
I ruin and I scar and I blight people's lives through my actions, whether they be unintended or not.
I am expendable - I am useless.
Nothing more.

29th November, 20.55pm.
I begin writing Chapter 8 of "Scarlet Flesh", all whilst pondering everything that has happened today and everything that may or may not happen in the weeks to come.
The tears are beginning to emerge; my wrist glows with the beaming red I have become so accustomed to.
They laugh. My peers, they jeer and they shriek and they deride, and for what?
To satisfy their schadenfreude? Perhaps that is what it must be - I did not expect rational people to act like vultures; swooping down and picking on that which is already dead, stripping the bones bit by bit.
That is what they are doing. Day by day, I am eroded away, with bits of my confidence and general demeanor spiraling into the abyss below.
One day, I will break. I will crumple and I will warp and I will be crushed. And all they will do is laugh.
The knife is pushed inwards, sending pain radiating outwards and inwards. I wince, but I know this is the only way I can control myself, and stop myself from falling apart.
This blog, it's become so much more - it is my catharsis, the means by which I vent my frustrations and continue to function as a normal member of society.
And that's all I want - to be normal, to be like the other kids and live a happy life with a girl I love and friends I can be with.
Why can't I be normal?
Why couldn't I be born as a better person?
Why did I have to be the different one?
Why?
The words echo in my mind; puerile wishes that would never be granted, happy endings that would never be tacked on.
I am left to wander the halls of my mind, searching for answers and solutions that would never present themselves. Rifling through the memories, the old and the new, the good and bad, I find... nothing.
Nothing of use, just nostalgia and embarrassment.
Nothing of use.
Nothing.

Left alone, I can do nothing but cry
Trawl through the memories, see if the tears run dry
As comforts of past and present join and entwine
Both are ephemeral, both rest on a fault line

The fault line is anger, the triggers are my peers
Laughing at me, all I can hear is their jeers
Echoing through my being, I must make a choice
Remain silent and subservient, or show them my Voice?

The former, I'll choose, for they will never learn
The scars, they cleanse; their comments only burn
Leaving behind nothing but storms of ash
A maelstrom of decay, yet at my wrist I still slash

Nearly one year has passed, and I am back where I was
In the pits of depression, I struggle to be free from the jaws
Of apathy and misery, clamping down on my joy
I am pulled to my prison, where my flesh, I will destroy.


Source of image: http://www.freefever.com/stock/walking-in-the-rain-wallpaper-photo.jpg