Storm of Sorrows

 (i) - The Storm Breaks

Gathering storms crack briefly on the darkened horizon and I pause, gazing at the light as it flashes across the sky, and in a moment of clarity, I saw you, surrounded by the denizens of nightmares, sitting proudly in the self-obsessed delusion that is your throne of twisted thoughts.

Your acid tongue and razor eyes cut me with a glance and in that brief, dying second, I see you as you are, see through the haze of your deception, the clouds of misdirection you hide within, fall swiftly on the truth of the spinning world of lies you have created.

Whilst your world spun, bloated corpses floated on the canal of fetid waste that you feasted upon. Unsuspecting victims falling foul of your creation and devoured, trapped lovingly in the web of your deceit and stabbed in the heart with poisoned blades, sharpened by a lifetime of use, honed to the bitter point of finality.

As the storm breaks, truth dawns.

(ii) - Veiled Shadows

Dancing in the veiled shadows of old clichés

Grasping at the bleeding veins of tortured hearts

Sucking on the sockets of shallow vacant eyes

Feasting on the bloated corpse of another’s dreams

A world created in a crimson tide of betrayal

And in that last flash of recognition, I see you

A clouded vision of freedom spirals in the dark

And truth stabs like blades scything through life

Forged in furnaces fuelled by endless devotion

Righteousness tainted by misguided direction

A twilight existence nurtured in the depths of depravity

And in that final moment of truth, I know you

In the silence of your mind dark voices scream

Impassioned pleas for reason go unheard

Heralding in the dawn of demonistic subjugation

Bellowing incantations to a fractured acolyte

Commanding true obedience to the litany of death

And in the end, I understood

I understood how I fell for you

Understood my dedication to you

Understood the changes you made in me

Understood what it meant, to be

Understood that look in your eye

Understood every sweet, innocent lie

  

(iii) - Beguiling Seductress

I fell hopelessly for the lies you fed, regaled in your beauty and promise of deliverance from this turgid existence. You swallowed me whole with the hope that you promised, hope far and above the mundane trivia of a life surfing on the rising tide of humanities’ decline. Clutching at the precious threads of a dissolving world, you snared me, my own personal seductress.

The picture you created spoke to me of freedom, a release from the tortures of my mind. Wrestling in the arms of discontent, I found enlightenment in you, the clarity of thought that would embrace a path, clear and with purpose; a tantalising glimpse into the serendipity of enlightenment.  And as I tasted the sweet splendour of your ruby lips, I succumb to your charms, trapped by the immaturity of a mind infatuated, and in that moment I was yours, trapped, ensnared, chosen.

(iv) - Bewitched

Your platitudes enthralled me

Your pleasantries regaled me

Your every movement caught my eye

Your every word brought a sigh

With every beat of your chest

My heart came to rest

With your head on my shoulder

The enticement becomes bolder

As you lay your hand in mine

Our emotions intertwine

Soft velvet touch enriches me

Knowing then I shall never be free

With every sweet song that you sing

One more bell begins to ring

Every smile that crossed your face

Another piece fell into place

As our hearts become complete

Pounding out a single beat

Worlds unite with such precision

Leaving only one decision

Your rhapsodies ensnared me

Your smiling eyes delighted me

Your every thought changed my view

Your every touch made me true

Your incantations of enchantment, but a shadow of the truth

As you devour the lives of innocents, what remains behind is proof

Of the vengeful bleeding hunger, that beats within your chest

And I embrace your burning passion with thoughts carefully caressed

(v) - The Sweet Taste Of Ruby Lips

Alone in the candle-lit haze of aromatic perfumes, plotting your next move, the next step on the stairwell of vengeance, you smile. Feeding on the embryonic tears of bitterness, climbing on the broken backs of forgotten memories, you rise adorned in the regal robes of the queen of sacrificial slaughter.

Riding out on your fiery chariot of disdain until at last you come upon the chosen one, the unsuspecting victim of your blood filled quest. And in the sweetness of your smile, another heart breaks. And another dies in the arms of the sugar coated ruby lips of poison, another soul sacrificed upon the altar of your creation.

And you feast upon the carnage of the world you have created, drinking down the unholy blood of sacrifice, and swimming in the ever moving pit of primordial waste that is your reality.

Your world.

Your existence.

Your reason for being.

Your trinity of devotion.

Whilst the innocents live on, in the nightmare of a permanent hell, never knowing whether they will be the next meal, the next corpse floating in the river of realities decay, the next chapter in your incantations of devotion, the next forgotten passenger on the caravan of death:

The Chosen.

(vi) - Lament For the Chosen

Seeking out the haunts of the innocents you search the one

The unsuspecting victim that falls for your silver tongue

All you require, as you hunt in the night

Is an endless desire to feed an undying thirst

Eyes full of fire, your pursuit is relentless

As the funeral pyre awaits for the chosen

Prowling through the streets of dreams you find your prey

Lurking in the darkened shadows you have your say

Chosen one lured with the kiss of an angel

Baited, secured, wrapped in the arms of a devil

Intentions obscured from the first word you whispered

Blood lust ensured for another passing dawn

In the silence of the perfumed room you gather your storm

Words clouding understanding of the demon you become

The touch of your lips caress a misguided mind

Smooth fingertips stroke an ego that’s lost

Releasing your grip on the storm made of sorrows

Unwritten script played out in dark splendour

Screaming out a curdled warning at realities confusion

Silver blade of truth now cuts through his dreams illusion

In the silence he cries

His only surprise

In the moment he dies

Is the truth in your lies

And in his dying glory, I realise my fate

Glancing in the mirror, I glimpse the grin upon your face

In your hour of triumph, I realise my doom

Another rotting corpse masked in sweet perfume

Turning my back on you, I walk away

Running from your demons to live another day

Screaming in the hallway, releasing what I knew

A loving act of solace, joyfully betraying you

(vii) - Truth Dawns

Sweet perfumes mask the bitter taste of rotting corpses. Craven images adorn the oak lined walls of the candle lit room. Sacrificial blades of passion sit sheathed, leather-bound in magnificence, swinging playfully in their resting places. Dark manifestations of your cursed obsession lie scattered on the floor, blood pools in the hollows of surfaces worn over time, and your undying devotion to an unquenched thirst for blood is laid bare for all to see.

Incomprehensible mutterings scratched out in blood splattered volumes adorn dust covered shelves, the internal wanderings of a mind warped in the bitterness of solitude, loneliness and rejection. Hand carved offerings of worship sit atop the roughly worked altar of deliverance, the resting place of many a misguided fool caught in the web spun by the ruby red lips of poison.

As the world spins to your hour of reckoning, your chapter’s end, I watch as my bitter betrayal takes its course. The hands that took mine now bound securely, the lips that caressed me gagged, the body I worshipped held fast in an altar of wood. I feel your pain as the tears fall across the soft gentle skin on your cheeks.

As the storm breaks, truth dawns.

As the lightning fills the room, I understand.

Our minds fuse as one and all becomes clear.

In that brief dying second, I see you and I know.

As the current pulses, I see me.

And as the lights dim for the last time

I realise why I sit alone in this altar of wood.

© Fergus Martin

2013