The Basement Years
There is nothing.
... and there is no one.
... and all maggot October
I lay on the dirt floor,
face down, asphyxiating
amidst the dead earth's ugliest creatures,
writhing in the atramentous ashes
of what once was blood.
With a funereal docility,
I accepted my own burial ...
as it has been so black here, for so long. ...
Aphotic visions fade to pure oblivion.
We long to eat each other, them and I. ...
because there is no one. ...
and there is nothing. ...
and there is no solace
in this desolate, forsaken land.
The agonies of starvation
come and go, like the missing days
and nights, ever more painful than before.
by memories of light and dreams
of the unattainable life outside,
my desperate psyche finally
caved in and devoured itself.
... and the ravenous worms entwined
around my spine to haste the inevitable
... to work their infernal alchemies.
The Diabolical Apex
This life makes me long for Hell --
did I bring this torment upon myself?
Desperation more than blinds.
I carved out my eyes
and placed them on the wrong altar,
a fruitless sacrifice. It's not a flesh wound
that bled the sable tears of Acheron.
It will damn me to all I ever longed for ...
damn me to Xura -- the void within,
where the long empty days silently fade
into cold black years, and existence
slowly congelates into a hiemal eternity.
The glacier, internalized, that place
to which all roads and rivers lead ...
... that nocturnal realm where
the stars have long since drowned
and caved in upon themselves ...
their spectral fires blaze,
inverted and black,
draining the realm of light.
The sky screams in constant agony
as it attempts to rip itself apart.
It bleeds hiemal streams
of perpetual sorrow;
they flood the blackened earth,
snuffing the vitae
from all that they touch.
A melancholy chill lingers
in the dismal harbor
where the shadowy waters collect ...
infinity's hell-black depths.