Share this:

On Muses

"The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over." - Hunter S. Thompson A chill washed over him, like icy fingers dancing their way up and down his spine, followed by a sudden emptiness. It was like...

The Journey

I refuse to let death be my life, for it is the only one that I have; I'll not worry about the end of my path, it will come soon enough, and getting there is the fun part.

Epitaph

Time gives way to the timeless Life gives way to death Form gives way to the formless Motion gives way to rest Weep not for me at my passing Mourn not that I finally sleep For death is no more than a passage From time to eternity

shadows

Shadows haunt me, ghosts of a past I cannot escape-- and you, always there, the shadows are your shape.

Heartless

He pulled skin and muscle aside, his fingers finding the bone beneath as they tore their way through flesh. Working his fingers between the tight spaces, tendons and cartilage popped and snapped as it released from the ribs, which in turn creaked and groaned before finally breaking. He could feel the bone bend and fracture,...

Untitled

It is the end of summer and thus the light dies; it is the end of ever, comes eternal night. A rebellion of being in a moment of faith, a question of answers and creator replaced; the worry of breathing when the air is this cold, when silence of chaos and its order unfolds. The...

Of Rage

It tears at me from the inside, like claws and teeth shredding their way through my ribs and skull, seeking freedom from their restraints, a great beast given over to primal urges, and I find myself wanting to let it; a fired blood feeds the desire to roar and forget, to surrender to anger and...

Fade

I long for the peace that comes with dying: to fade into the afterglow of a life no longer wanted, to settle into the stillness and comfort of oblivion, drifting aimlessly and endlessly in the comfort of not being, unaware of my awareness, and blissful in the nothingness; but twilight holds me captive, and I...

Wraith

I know what it is to be one of the restless dead, for that is the condition of my soul and my barely beating heart.