Morbid Devices

Morbid Devices

Folder: 
Volume Three


Morbid Devices

~*~

 

Seeing their fears spread out across their face,

running towards the light, falling across open space.

This is not a story of a broken home,

the devices we find ourselves in, when we are left alone and to our own.

The locked doors that we desire to explore,

godless and forsaken, on your knees still begging for more.

 

Follow me through my mind, like the white rabbit

don't get lost for I am told it can be quite rabid.

Lets dig down even deeper, lets meet the gate keeper

from what I hear he can be a real creeper.

Morbid devices, from a mountain of corpses

with bloody hands everyone reach for your torches.

 

Whispers spread that I have lost my touch,

that in the darkness I surround myself with a crutch

whiskey to drown away the sorrow,

a couple of pills, courage for tomorrow

eyes on the addiction always one step behind temptation.

Chased a fleeting dream, that faded far to fast

held back by depression, where happiness never did last

We hold onto the seconds, those precious thoughts

ironically those seconds over time cause our memories to rot.

 

There is chaos to a sadistic order, where each step defines our future.

Marching to the drums of madness, living within our own bliss

where the blind lead the damned, believing in the suicidal ignorance.

Becoming zombies in a world of sin and disease,

it's like the nature of survival where we become children in a carnival.

 

Deep within this forest, is a path that cannot be sought

a trial by fire, where never again will my soul be bought

you could close your eyes and lie to me,

and tell me that through the chaos there can be no beauty.

The idea of hope has twisted into an ugly word,

where every distraction makes it become obscured.

The dreams that faded long ago,

leaves pain in its wake, as time moves slow.

 

“The stars in the heavens, show us a path of the gods

sharing with us the stories of our lives, as humanity reminds us of the flaws.”

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

[Edited - Cleaned up messy Codeing]

 Hmmmmm not much to add about this one, I was decently pleased with the outcome but still does feel like its missing a bit.

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Hatred

Folder: 
Volume One

 
 
 

~~)(~~

Hatred”

 

 

I'm becoming the monster I sought to be

and it's scaring me

I can't stop the urge

it's to much for me to handle

my life is just one big scandal

power to the freaks;

god bless the geeks

outcast's wearing our fucked up masks

fighting Society

that is fucking with our privacy

suck my dick, and like it

I am the monster born

taking on an all new form

thundering down on you like a storm

 

call me what you will

because when I am done, you'll feel

all my hate, all my rage

I'll trap you in your own fucking cage

stabbing you with the sticks

that condemned us you fucking pricks

Kill the damn dicks

I lost all my humanity

Next to go is my sanity

I'll give them something to label

I wont rest till its on cable

 

"De-flowered girl, on Jesus's table"

 

This is just the beginning

God will reject me for sinning

but I don't give a shit, can you tell?

I'm already living in hell

we are the damned

our life they scammed

Its our Time

spawned from God's crime

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This was one of many dark poems I've written in the past, I would probably do a tribute to my Morbid Device's collection. (A whole another story in itself) But yes, as I mentioned I was going through a rather disturbing time in my life when I wrote this piece.

 

(Updated; From Psycho- Confessions)

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