The day has quit, the darkness reigns
Calm as death, I’m standing still
You fill your pen with ink, I fill mine in blood
The truth is overrated, Conspiracy is a creed
Shadows move in and out, Death is delusional,
Nothing remains on the other end, nor this,
Lamenting is a cliché, Numbed are hurts!
Yes! My pages bear scars enough,
Of depths oblivious be you,
For, in demented oblivion you dwell.
Aware are you of who you’ve fostered?
Broken quill feeds better, did you know?
And so you’ve raised a predator in me,
The one that waits, and waits for the kill.
For, there hasn’t been another thirst known,
Only of blood and that alone!
you make me feel guilty. this is my genre. the dark side. i used to love writing about werewolves. god knows what happened.
ReplyDeleteanyway
For, there hasn’t been another thirst known,
Only of blood and that alone!
that, was heavenly.
Raj: Are you serious? I love the dark stuff too, but they sort of tend to have an influence on you when you read/pen/listen to them at least for the day.
ReplyDeleteThanks again! :)
totally. i have always been pulled to it. the latest: exorcism. have been wanting to write an article on it. have given the anti-god a character, now all that's left is possession. :)
ReplyDeleteand about the influence, everything can have an influence. its what you let them do to you that matters. even a teachers lecture. sometimes :D
Hahah! :D (Eagerly waits)
ReplyDeleteAnother dark one coming right up. (uploading)