Welcome to my second series of literary work

Nothing feels the same
My life is still-frame
I hate this anguish that I feel
In essence, my soul doth peal

Twisted and undefined
I fear I'm losing my mind
The food tastes bland
Dull to my hand

I feel my soul apurge
And be slammed upon by scourge
End it now, give me reprieve
Or else I'll be of self-deceive

I've found I exist for you
Despite this Hell I'm going through.



Demonica

Borne of pits, full of loathing and sin,
She laughs wickedly, flashing an evil grin
Taking flight in the stark black night,
Seeking some young soul to plight
But she flies not alone,
She has me, her lord of the bone
I hold her tight as any fiend should,
Destroying all opposers, as if they were wood
We laugh at our powers and also their scope,
And then we proceed to lust and to grope
Her darkling eyes, her bloodstained lips,
Her luscious breasts, and her feminine hips
I love them all, this is true
For I am the lord, and she is you



Red

Red,
Crimson,
Ruby ,
Vermillion,
Scarlet,
Fireshade,
No matter what color it is
The taste is the same
The bloodlust, the craving
I could care less its name.



Darkling

Demonkight, Shadowblame
Scourge of Death, Pestilencelord
Whatever you call them, they're all the same
All the darkling spawn record
Worshipped by some
Destroyed by others
The destroyers are my enemy,
And the worshippers are my brothers

< b r>
The Apple

I've cut down the tree,
For it's single fruit
I've reached for it's limb,
And begun to loot
I pierce my whites in,
And suck the juice out
Some call this sin,
But this is sin? I surely doubt
I discard the husk, with syrupy tang,
As I hear the tree shriek
And finally give out,
Now to plant a seed



Midnight chylde

The midnight chylde wishes to play
The midnight chylde wishes you stay
The midnight chylde readies to flay
And the midnight chylde will not bay



Midnight passion

Children of the night
Too playful to ever fight
Love they make tonight



Spear

Sharpened shaft of steel
Skewer the flesh, make it peal
Impales things for real



Onyx

The ebon nightstone
Darkness solidifying
A pool of pure tar



Pitch

The darkest of blacks
The black even shades stay out
Swirling midnight mass



Sepulcher

The only shield for me
Against the solar field you see
My bed and my tomb



Fangs

Ivory daggers
Used to pierce and feed upon
The blood of the live



Ravage

Ripping me to shreads
This has caused me to demand
That I slice my hand



Ritual #1

I raise the pyre to start the fire
I lower the gourd to honor my lord
I drink from the challice to ward away Mallice
I enjoy my love as we push and shove



Corpse

A nondormant husk
The body carries stark musk
It sleeps within grave



Edge

Sharpened line of steel
Rends flesh and causes it peal
Razor-sharp justice



Love

State of higher sense
Emotion ever craved now
Different from lust

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