The Ambiguation Page

So, I have been told (again) to update; I don't really mind, since I'm bored at the moment.
Unfortunately I've nothing to say, so I'm going to be predictable and post some pseudo-blackmetal/Neo-paganistic poetry.
So, here's the poem: I'm going to make the title up right now, so it'll be subject to change.
-------------------------------
The Angelic

i'm reading to the sin's conclusion,
waiting for the rain to fall,
pacing across the frosted hallway
lamenting red life as the ashes fall

nightmares grinning like grim seduction
a fleeting glimpse of more,
like thrashing the beast in the rising tide
of lust and the scent of war

i'm dreaming of screams and chains of gold
prison bars virtue forged,
drinking bleeding sacrifice to the
reaping raping horde.

like lovers wrapped in perfect roses
taunting death with a poison kiss
a field of green and simple losses;
i'm just not drunk enough for this.

so on an innocent page with a childish grin
we're scrawling lullabies
singing of dark and the touch of the night
desperation's song of lies

it rings through empty marble halls
filled with whirling gears
iron cogs and the stains of time
sweat and blood and fear

i step onto the final stair
crawling blind to the end of night
the sin-song is over, i'm slinking away
so looking back with triumphant stare
I step into the waiting light.
-------------------------------

What do you think..?
And what does it mean..?

Flag Blog. Let's Dance.

So, I've finally succumbed to the unnessesary, mildly unappreciated pressure from various members of the disproportionately silly, Y chromosome deficient segment of the population.
That being said, I still don't have anything to say, so I'm going to write a poem. Right now. And it's going to be so bad that nobody will ever bug me to update again.

Aren't I a clever person.


Steamy.

Under pressure I feel alive;
hissing, writhing inside the
glowing, crimson-coal
prison, thrashing.
I'd thought it was energy,
some cosmic disruption, a
manic extrospection;
But it turns out I'm just hot.


There. Isn't it wonderful?

&& [this is t h e [e]mo .title.]

"Citizens, we are gathered here today to mourn. Seventeen years ago, the world smiled. Dawn broke in joy, and all things were as they should be. But that day was no asupicious note in the greater symphony that is time. That day the requiem for sanity began, and a great silliness came into being." - charedice


Unessesary quotes aside; yay, I'm 17 :) have some photos :)
and apologies for the title.

poem?

this is somewhat weird; there's a bit of a trick to it.

today swirls and changes into
my dreams or visions of
nights spent spinning with
the end of the world, it's coming



sorry about the shortness. I might post again later tonight.