Welcome to Gaia! ::

+ The Official 'Got Goth?' Guild +

Back to Guilds

 

Tags: goth, subculture, alternative 

Reply Art / Poetry / Literature - Related Topics
What do you think about my work?

Quick Reply

Enter both words below, separated by a space:

Can't read the text? Click here

Submit

-DamiLoki-

PostPosted: Sat Feb 25, 2006 6:20 pm


Broken Hearts and Suicide

Stitches of a better time never seem to be sewn.
Ridicule and overdue time have left me so alone.
You were never there for me, No footprints in the sand.
Your touch was the only thing I could feel, Only your cruel hand.

Our blood is the wine of which we drink,
And our veins the vine from which it flows.
Our love is but a winter flame, Dancing to the ballad of misery.
Hiding behind our fragile voices, It speaks in blissful revelry.
The tone in which it whispers, Delicate and frail.
The grace with which it blesses us, can both lift and fail.
Nothing could interfere with us. We were inseparable.
Interruption intact, my heart then cracked,
We both knew this was inevitable.
Like salt against the wounds, The heartache stings, Yet heals.
Now that I've been consumed, Release seems to unseal.
I've regained the will to live, But lost the will to love.
You were either a hell bound wraith, or an angel from above.
The sun set on our lives, And so then rose the moon.
You've mended my stitches, Reopened the wound.
I know the morale, I know it all too well.
The loved shall find salvation,
While those who've lost it endure hell.
You've stolen my ailments and broken my heart.
Nothing can repair these cuts on my arms.

Is this what you wanted? Did you really love me?
All irrelevant now, Through the fog, I can't see.
Was it your desire to beat and rape my soul?
Or was it just a fire only meant to grow cold?
Your voice rings in the back of my mind,
Haunting all my thoughts.
If only I could deafen or blind
These desperate thoughts.

The blade is the only remedy here, It's lick, my only repair.
Medications serve no purpose, My wounds can taste the air.
Binding a slipknot and untying my life, These tears cloud my thought.
Hitting the rope and suffocating myself, My neck strangled and caught.
The pain has taken a state of permanence...
The blood and tears, My only evidence...
PostPosted: Sat Feb 25, 2006 6:21 pm


The Forsaken

With no shelter, we roam, Without a home,
Bliss but an illusive seductress.
With no tourniquet, We bleed to death,
Only to find we can never die.
A sharp cry, A tainted whim, Reviving us to life again.
Another chance, Another way to fail.
One last possession by the demons in us all,
Magnetic revenant teaching us to fall.
Carnal corruption drawing our souls to indulge.
Reduced to crawling for the renewal of this curse.
We walk alone, With heads hung low,
Quarantine this plague.
Times of acceptance and empathetic embrace,
I remember, so vague.
We stalk the winter winds and nights,
Abandoned by all but perpetual plights,
No one to love, Everyone to fight,
Forsaken by your light.
Ebony sadism falls from one eye,
And crimson masochism from the other.
Dead to conformity, Repelled from normality.
Manifested in mortuaries, Internal diablerie.
Desolate and immune to this shadow of reality.
Reaping, Weeping,
We are the forsaken.

-DamiLoki-

Reply
Art / Poetry / Literature - Related Topics

 
Manage Your Items
Other Stuff
Get GCash
Offers
Get Items
More Items
Where Everyone Hangs Out
Other Community Areas
Virtual Spaces
Fun Stuff
Gaia's Games
Mini-Games
Play with GCash
Play with Platinum