Black-eyed

I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Bordelining schizo
And guaranteed to cause a fuss
I was never loyal
Except to my own pleasure zone
I'm forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home
I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Bordeline bipolar
Forever biting on your nuts
I was never grateful
That's why I spent my days alone
I'm forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home
Broken home
Black-eyed

K.C.

A friend is nothing but a known enemy.

Kharl Lylle

I don't believe in anything that condemns me, I cannot afford to lose that much time. I rather things that bring me some relief, even if only slightly. Every day o' my life's a heavy burden to carry believing that, after all, I'm not going to another place but hell. An eternal flame that waits for me. 

I: condemnation o' this kind, this creation.






Photo: Karl Persson, http://www.karlpersson.org/

I can feel it,
I fell into it.
Your demons in my soul.
Your demons in my heart.

Curfew

My generation has been touched by the finger o' death,
all o' my great idols died days before or after my conception.
And we all have this legacy o' being great too.
We can't emerge from this.

Depths o' spleen around our spirits,
Draughts o' misery overrun my Rome today.

Draught feeds fire.
Fire feeds consumption.
Consumption leads to death
And death touched my generation.

Bluish Dawn

Meaningless routine, come to me.
Aimless days, talk to me.
And jabber on, jabber on.

Over the Bulkhead
the Depths and over some Grains.
The corn fields yell in, yell in.

The Yellowish luftmatratze platzen.

Angst

I want to lay and die. I want laws to abide.

This is too mean to me.

I'm weak, I faint, I see.

Understanding's not winning. Knowledge's more to worry about.

I've learned and I still stupid. That's the truth, priest.

Stupidity reign o'er me.

(otherwise, I'll flee)
:Anguish

Let's have a war

My dear Johnny my dear friend
And so once again you are fightin' us all
And when I ask you why
You raise your sticks and cry, and I fall

Oh, my friend
How did you come
To trade the fiddle for the drum
You say I have turned
Like the enemies you've earned

But I can remember
All the good things you are
And so I ask you please
Can I help you find the peace and the star

Oh, my friend
What time is this
To trade the handshake for the fist
And so once again

Oh, America my friend
And so once again
You are fighting us all
And when we ask you why

You raise your sticks and cry and we fall
Oh, my friend
How did you come
To trade the fiddle for the drum

You say we have turned
Like the enemies you've earned
But we can remember
All the good things you are

And so we ask you please
Can we help you find the peace and the star
Oh my friend
We have all come
To fear the beating of your drum

Symptom

Words never mean nothing, Words can't save a soul.
The Divine Spirit won't touch the branded people when they moan.

Our home's our land and our land's our heart.
Issues that can refrain, Graces there are tart.

These are the things that make they cheer.
Those are their delusional fear.

Smaller and smaller,
Comes to and end.

Breeze,
Fend.

Holy Grace O' Beyond call my name when I'm

Migraine in a tot
And migraine in a sip
The whole world will be dragged into fear, into fear.

          - Mesmerize, don't you hold back any longer or try to restrain.
Dreams quit tomorrow. Dreams can attain.



                                    - My weariness amazes me and I'm branded, I'm mistreat, I flee.

“Per pale, the first barry of eight Gules and Argent, the second Gules, on a mount Vert a crown Or, issuant therefrom a double cross Argent. In crest the Holy Crown of Hungary.”

Y

Words that don't exist,
Make more sense to me
     - Lonesome dreams are never empty
And I'll always be full, regrettably.

thought

In white sheets, will never be contained, a Thought.

Truth o' mine

The truth loses all of it's reality in the exact moment that you stare at it with spleen eyes. (One second later, all truth can simply fade away like a mist).

Life o' mine

I write from beyond. This life's not, not anymore, a trouble for me. I can see the halo. The green spirits made of pure light and the purple hounds comin' from the deepest dungeons. I'm here and I'm not. I was there but I wasn't. My eyes are blizzard spheres of spleen and I'm talkin' insideout the back of your mind.

Words o' mine

Now, I've got the words of my necromancy. With them I'll unleash, from my soul's fifth hell, my monsters and demons. Prepare yourself, World. 'Cause you don't know - yet - the fire and the sulphur that I keep under my tongue or the aberrations that make themselves at home in my heart.

In fact,

Humanity is, in its ideological and theoretical role, an untouchable dream of an unreachable perfection that brings to light men race's unsatisfied behavior.

Prelude

The English language is, by excellency, my free will's homeland. And this free will of mine it's my deepest dungeon, my imprisonment.

Yesterday's morning

Life isn't reaction, not even close to perfection,
But sometimes, in the heat, inside
your eyes, I can barely see, all
the things that make you glide

Sliping mind
Whispering eye.

Talk to me.