Mourning Cloak

If there be anywhere so beautiful a thing as peaceful oblivion, then please take me. Banks of roses, shaded by cypreses, and onwards we marched with godless intentions. Through the mire, attending your footfall. On the levees of which I would soon awake. My shaken recollection is clouded and vague, as I reply that I know nothing. Basked in the bloom of ornamental adjectives. Words help suspended in beads of amber. For I love thee. O, Eternity! O, Eternity!

Submitted by Lake of Tears — Apr 24, 2025

A wretched life, unwholly lived. Drowning in the blackest of wings. Thoughts lay besieged, baited and lured. Distilled, given form, adroit, tenebrous. A wretched life, unwholly lived. Drowning in the blackest of wings. A mirthless laugh, a clawed at scab, dull distractions, dull distractions. Sunless sail, wash over me, too vast to see, billowing. And lo, for the earth was void of form and shape, and darkness was all over the face of the deep. And we said, Look at that fucker dance! Come all ye hateful.

Submitted by The Void — Apr 24, 2025

Incantations penetrate the furthest reaches of the Gods. Not the care of the skies, or revolving stars, Can avail as an excuse to the deities she calls, Day delays to rise on earth, the Sun a mere catspaw. What went we into this wilderness to find? Leaving our country, our kindred, our farther's houses, and for what? At the crux of a baleful knoll, Wicked council, come as one. To live deliciously. To relish in the taste of butter. To be clothed in a fine dress. To fly from this serpent's nest. My corrupt nature is empty of grace, Bent unto sin, and that continually. What went we into this wilderness to find?

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 24, 2025