nocturne-shift413

[nocturne-shift413]

LONG ASS POEM, from the heart, TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THINK ™️ published on Wattpad

As it were,

As it be,

The roots of affliction I see,

Are an inferno,

A pilgrimage all masochists know,

Where the ashes of fallen angels,

Flurry like snow,

And a frigid furnace,

Is the only source of glow,

Being only a stones throw,

Away,

I approach,

Not to be led astray,

As Innumerable feet have paved the way,

And how could footsteps,

Stoop to betray,

To my surprise,

I find,

When I look with my eyes,

An insurmountable mountain of lives,

Bodies piled to the somber skies,

Juxtaposed,

To smoke stacks of proportionate size,

Only in focus,

Do I realize,

This Rick is diverse,

Some silent curse,

Has killed more than any one hearse could hope to carry,

Faces benign and scary,

Smooth and hairy,

Young,

As well as old and wary,

all terry here,

No fear,

Simply vacant stares far and near,

It appears,

Their only purpose, is to burn in this furnace,

What did they do to deserve this,

This place is earthless,

And they are it's fuel,

Next to these cadavers,

Many a radiant jewel,

So, I move to inspect,

As I'm naught but a radiant fool,

Now,

What I find is so cruel,

Lost memories in a shimmering pool,

This,

Is the gruel of the devil,

I become disheveled,

Unsettled,

All these shiny pebbles,

In this pool,

We're loved ones left behind,

Good times they could never rewind,

And sentiments never opined,

This is such an intimate find,

That I feel sick,

So I flee quick,

And bump into,

What must be a terrible trick,

Before me is a lit wick,

And I'm wholly bewitched,

As it's flame twitched,

The shadow it cast pitched from side to side,

This stride was the silhouette of the devil,

Dancing with pride,

Around those who died,

Of course,

I elected to hide,

While this shadow danced around its pride and joy,

I am by no means coy,

So I begin to wonder,

If this is a ploy,

To cloy me away from my apathy,

I had to ascertain,

How this came,

To be,

Where I was exactly,

And if my own demons were used to entrap me,

So I set off for the windswept streets,

Excluding my heartbeats,

The solemn ashes silenced all,

Dimming my acuity,

To that of a sleepy fall day,

Once I made my way,

Back out to the streets,

I was met with the manifestation,

That trauma secretes,

A place where mental perdition greets it's guests,

with fiendish feelings,

City blocks,

Butchered into skin peelings,

A plenitude of bomb blasted ceilings,

Shady dealings,

And horrors congealing,

On buildings burnt to a crisp,

Architectural vessels housing naught but a wisp,

Of smoke,

This is not a joke,

This is what my mind's eye sees,

As I close my eyes,

And my mind's eye bleeds,

Now,

As my minds eye proceeds,

I perceive,

The haunting daydreams of the stricken,

It begins when the winds whip in,

Across this avenue of nothing,

The buffeting,

Carries screams of pain,

Oaths to maintain,

Incredible horror,

As I explore more,

The atmosphere becomes poorer,

For the future of me,

I happen upon a fellow junkie,

And a vision of what must be,

His own sordid past,

Cause as he watches his life turn to trash,

He turns to me,

Shoots up,

And turns to ash,

How could this fadeaway bypass,

His bygone lash,

Of time,

His body, soul, & mind,

Are entwined here forever,

To remind us,

That maybe oblivion is better,

Than heaven or hell,

That maybe the wounds of the past,

don't heal so well,

And there's nothing you can do,

To save yourself from history,

As this occurred to me,

It unnerved me,

So I had to hurry on my way,

This onslaught of decay,

Began to belie,

The backdrop of ' everything's ok ',

Slithering in my veins,

In my aimless trek,

Apparitions of others pains,

And all their past strains,

Display an insane show,

The further I go,

The less I know it seems,

But these dreams,

Are unsuitable scenes,

To be the means to my end,

For as an acrid fog,

Begins to descend,

And puts an end to my sight,

I'm confronted with a door,

Not ornate or poor,

Smooth or scored,

Just a regular door,

An entryway into the evermore,

Of my thoughts,

After turning its knob I see lots,

A tangled web of jots,

Senseless scraps tied into knots,

Buzzing like wasps,

And now I know the cost of my game,

In the recesses of my brain,

I finally notice a family in pain,

Over there,

A beast untamed,

And there,

A darkness,

I simply can't explain,

Indeed,

I also perceive,

A carefree need,

To be me,

And to love,

An interest in the stars up above,

And the redolence of a sweet scented,

Summer shrub,

I see mental illness,

And the mischief that it plays,

Bloody Razor blades,

Shredding skin to count the days.

And my mistrust casting a doubtful gaze,

But where do I dare to direct my boots,

at the roots of my affliction,

Addiction,

Ana entryway crooked in its mission,

Dying To be my mortician,

I picture my apparition,

In high definition,

The people I’d haunt,

Rending a spiritual incision,

I open its door in a wary position,

Stopping to listen,

Before I peer inside,

I've arrived,

At a torture chamber lined with shelves,

Stacked atop them,

All the different hells,

For me,

I push open the door,

And step in quietly,

It's dusty,

I've long ago abandoned,

It's crusty surfaces,

I see sharp objects,

With hurtful purposes,

And I'm sure this is,

My own trauma treasury,

I pick up a blood soaked memory,

And it stares back,

as if to say,

Remember me,

I remark that I do,

And that it hurts to touch you,

It spits back " fool! "

I'm the one you should listen to,

I could have all that I would,

The what is with the should,

If I could,

Just,

Put down,

The needle,

[nocturne-shift413]

[nocturne-shift413]

Are there any writers out there that would be interested in building on the craft at all, parley to the effect of a discussion?

[nocturne-shift413]

[nocturne-shift413]

LONG ASS POEM, from the heart, TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THINK ™️ published on Wattpad

As it were,

As it be,

The roots of affliction I see,

Are an inferno,

A pilgrimage all masochists know,

Where the ashes of fallen angels,

Flurry like snow,

And a frigid furnace,

Is the only source of glow,

Being only a stones throw,

Away,

I approach,

Not to be led astray,

As Innumerable feet have paved the way,

And how could footsteps,

Stoop to betray,

To my surprise,

I find,

When I look with my eyes,

An insurmountable mountain of lives,

Bodies piled to the somber skies,

Juxtaposed,

To smoke stacks of proportionate size,

Only in focus,

Do I realize,

This Rick is diverse,

Some silent curse,

Has killed more than any one hearse could hope to carry,

Faces benign and scary,

Smooth and hairy,

Young,

As well as old and wary,

all terry here,

No fear,

Simply vacant stares far and near,

It appears,

Their only purpose, is to burn in this furnace,

What did they do to deserve this,

This place is earthless,

And they are it's fuel,

Next to these cadavers,

Many a radiant jewel,

So, I move to inspect,

As I'm naught but a radiant fool,

Now,

What I find is so cruel,

Lost memories in a shimmering pool,

This,

Is the gruel of the devil,

I become disheveled,

Unsettled,

All these shiny pebbles,

In this pool,

We're loved ones left behind,

Good times they could never rewind,

And sentiments never opined,

This is such an intimate find,

That I feel sick,

So I flee quick,

And bump into,

What must be a terrible trick,

Before me is a lit wick,

And I'm wholly bewitched,

As it's flame twitched,

The shadow it cast pitched from side to side,

This stride was the silhouette of the devil,

Dancing with pride,

Around those who died,

Of course,

I elected to hide,

While this shadow danced around its pride and joy,

I am by no means coy,

So I begin to wonder,

If this is a ploy,

To cloy me away from my apathy,

I had to ascertain,

How this came,

To be,

Where I was exactly,

And if my own demons were used to entrap me,

So I set off for the windswept streets,

Excluding my heartbeats,

The solemn ashes silenced all,

Dimming my acuity,

To that of a sleepy fall day,

Once I made my way,

Back out to the streets,

I was met with the manifestation,

That trauma secretes,

A place where mental perdition greets it's guests,

with fiendish feelings,

City blocks,

Butchered into skin peelings,

A plenitude of bomb blasted ceilings,

Shady dealings,

And horrors congealing,

On buildings burnt to a crisp,

Architectural vessels housing naught but a wisp,

Of smoke,

This is not a joke,

This is what my mind's eye sees,

As I close my eyes,

And my mind's eye bleeds,

Now,

As my minds eye proceeds,

I perceive,

The haunting daydreams of the stricken,

It begins when the winds whip in,

Across this avenue of nothing,

The buffeting,

Carries screams of pain,

Oaths to maintain,

Incredible horror,

As I explore more,

The atmosphere becomes poorer,

For the future of me,

I happen upon a fellow junkie,

And a vision of what must be,

His own sordid past,

Cause as he watches his life turn to trash,

He turns to me,

Shoots up,

And turns to ash,

How could this fadeaway bypass,

His bygone lash,

Of time,

His body, soul, & mind,

Are entwined here forever,

To remind us,

That maybe oblivion is better,

Than heaven or hell,

That maybe the wounds of the past,

don't heal so well,

And there's nothing you can do,

To save yourself from history,

As this occurred to me,

It unnerved me,

So I had to hurry on my way,

This onslaught of decay,

Began to belie,

The backdrop of ' everything's ok ',

Slithering in my veins,

In my aimless trek,

Apparitions of others pains,

And all their past strains,

Display an insane show,

The further I go,

The less I know it seems,

But these dreams,

Are unsuitable scenes,

To be the means to my end,

For as an acrid fog,

Begins to descend,

And puts an end to my sight,

I'm confronted with a door,

Not ornate or poor,

Smooth or scored,

Just a regular door,

An entryway into the evermore,

Of my thoughts,

After turning its knob I see lots,

A tangled web of jots,

Senseless scraps tied into knots,

Buzzing like wasps,

And now I know the cost of my game,

In the recesses of my brain,

I finally notice a family in pain,

Over there,

A beast untamed,

And there,

A darkness,

I simply can't explain,

Indeed,

I also perceive,

A carefree need,

To be me,

And to love,

An interest in the stars up above,

And the redolence of a sweet scented,

Summer shrub,

I see mental illness,

And the mischief that it plays,

Bloody Razor blades,

Shredding skin to count the days.

And my mistrust casting a doubtful gaze,

But where do I dare to direct my boots,

at the roots of my affliction,

Addiction,

Ana entryway crooked in its mission,

Dying To be my mortician,

I picture my apparition,

In high definition,

The people I’d haunt,

Rending a spiritual incision,

I open its door in a wary position,

Stopping to listen,

Before I peer inside,

I've arrived,

At a torture chamber lined with shelves,

Stacked atop them,

All the different hells,

For me,

I push open the door,

And step in quietly,

It's dusty,

I've long ago abandoned,

It's crusty surfaces,

I see sharp objects,

With hurtful purposes,

And I'm sure this is,

My own trauma treasury,

I pick up a blood soaked memory,

And it stares back,

as if to say,

Remember me,

I remark that I do,

And that it hurts to touch you,

It spits back " fool! "

I'm the one you should listen to,

I could have all that I would,

The what is with the should,

If I could,

Just,

Put down,

The needle,

[nocturne-shift413]

Tell me this game didn’t revive the sense of magic and adventure in your younger self, I’d sit there in the stormy parts of Skyrim, and listen to that gloomy rain all night,

Please don’t kill

[nocturne-shift413]

[nocturne-shift413]

Sexualizing that old man is a full time job

[nocturne-shift413]

"Öfke biriktirme temiz gönlünde, Suya at, Göğe uçur, Toprağa göm..."

(Yoruma Kapalı...!!!)

[nocturne-shift413]

LONG ASS POEM, from the heart, TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THINK ™️ published on Wattpad

As it were,

As it be,

The roots of affliction I see,

Are an inferno,

A pilgrimage all masochists know,

Where the ashes of fallen angels,

Flurry like snow,

And a frigid furnace,

Is the only source of glow,

Being only a stones throw,

Away,

I approach,

Not to be led astray,

As Innumerable feet have paved the way,

And how could footsteps,

Stoop to betray,

To my surprise,

I find,

When I look with my eyes,

An insurmountable mountain of lives,

Bodies piled to the somber skies,

Juxtaposed,

To smoke stacks of proportionate size,

Only in focus,

Do I realize,

This Rick is diverse,

Some silent curse,

Has killed more than any one hearse could hope to carry,

Faces benign and scary,

Smooth and hairy,

Young,

As well as old and wary,

all terry here,

No fear,

Simply vacant stares far and near,

It appears,

Their only purpose, is to burn in this furnace,

What did they do to deserve this,

This place is earthless,

And they are it's fuel,

Next to these cadavers,

Many a radiant jewel,

So, I move to inspect,

As I'm naught but a radiant fool,

Now,

What I find is so cruel,

Lost memories in a shimmering pool,

This,

Is the gruel of the devil,

I become disheveled,

Unsettled,

All these shiny pebbles,

In this pool,

We're loved ones left behind,

Good times they could never rewind,

And sentiments never opined,

This is such an intimate find,

That I feel sick,

So I flee quick,

And bump into,

What must be a terrible trick,

Before me is a lit wick,

And I'm wholly bewitched,

As it's flame twitched,

The shadow it cast pitched from side to side,

This stride was the silhouette of the devil,

Dancing with pride,

Around those who died,

Of course,

I elected to hide,

While this shadow danced around its pride and joy,

I am by no means coy,

So I begin to wonder,

If this is a ploy,

To cloy me away from my apathy,

I had to ascertain,

How this came,

To be,

Where I was exactly,

And if my own demons were used to entrap me,

So I set off for the windswept streets,

Excluding my heartbeats,

The solemn ashes silenced all,

Dimming my acuity,

To that of a sleepy fall day,

Once I made my way,

Back out to the streets,

I was met with the manifestation,

That trauma secretes,

A place where mental perdition greets it's guests,

with fiendish feelings,

City blocks,

Butchered into skin peelings,

A plenitude of bomb blasted ceilings,

Shady dealings,

And horrors congealing,

On buildings burnt to a crisp,

Architectural vessels housing naught but a wisp,

Of smoke,

This is not a joke,

This is what my mind's eye sees,

As I close my eyes,

And my mind's eye bleeds,

Now,

As my minds eye proceeds,

I perceive,

The haunting daydreams of the stricken,

It begins when the winds whip in,

Across this avenue of nothing,

The buffeting,

Carries screams of pain,

Oaths to maintain,

Incredible horror,

As I explore more,

The atmosphere becomes poorer,

For the future of me,

I happen upon a fellow junkie,

And a vision of what must be,

His own sordid past,

Cause as he watches his life turn to trash,

He turns to me,

Shoots up,

And turns to ash,

How could this fadeaway bypass,

His bygone lash,

Of time,

His body, soul, & mind,

Are entwined here forever,

To remind us,

That maybe oblivion is better,

Than heaven or hell,

That maybe the wounds of the past,

don't heal so well,

And there's nothing you can do,

To save yourself from history,

As this occurred to me,

It unnerved me,

So I had to hurry on my way,

This onslaught of decay,

Began to belie,

The backdrop of ' everything's ok ',

Slithering in my veins,

In my aimless trek,

Apparitions of others pains,

And all their past strains,

Display an insane show,

The further I go,

The less I know it seems,

But these dreams,

Are unsuitable scenes,

To be the means to my end,

For as an acrid fog,

Begins to descend,

And puts an end to my sight,

I'm confronted with a door,

Not ornate or poor,

Smooth or scored,

Just a regular door,

An entryway into the evermore,

Of my thoughts,

After turning its knob I see lots,

A tangled web of jots,

Senseless scraps tied into knots,

Buzzing like wasps,

And now I know the cost of my game,

In the recesses of my brain,

I finally notice a family in pain,

Over there,

A beast untamed,

And there,

A darkness,

I simply can't explain,

Indeed,

I also perceive,

A carefree need,

To be me,

And to love,

An interest in the stars up above,

And the redolence of a sweet scented,

Summer shrub,

I see mental illness,

And the mischief that it plays,

Bloody Razor blades,

Shredding skin to count the days.

And my mistrust casting a doubtful gaze,

But where do I dare to direct my boots,

at the roots of my affliction,

Addiction,

Ana entryway crooked in its mission,

Dying To be my mortician,

I picture my apparition,

In high definition,

The people I’d haunt,

Rending a spiritual incision,

I open its door in a wary position,

Stopping to listen,

Before I peer inside,

I've arrived,

At a torture chamber lined with shelves,

Stacked atop them,

All the different hells,

For me,

I push open the door,

And step in quietly,

It's dusty,

I've long ago abandoned,

It's crusty surfaces,

I see sharp objects,

With hurtful purposes,

And I'm sure this is,

My own trauma treasury,

I pick up a blood soaked memory,

And it stares back,

as if to say,

Remember me,

I remark that I do,

And that it hurts to touch you,

It spits back " fool! "

I'm the one you should listen to,

I could have all that I would,

The what is with the should,

If I could,

Just,

Put down,

The needle,

[nocturne-shift413]

LONG ASS POEM, from the heart, TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THINK ™️ published on Wattpad

As it were,

As it be,

The roots of affliction I see,

Are an inferno,

A pilgrimage all masochists know,

Where the ashes of fallen angels,

Flurry like snow,

And a frigid furnace,

Is the only source of glow,

Being only a stones throw,

Away,

I approach,

Not to be led astray,

As Innumerable feet have paved the way,

And how could footsteps,

Stoop to betray,

To my surprise,

I find,

When I look with my eyes,

An insurmountable mountain of lives,

Bodies piled to the somber skies,

Juxtaposed,

To smoke stacks of proportionate size,

Only in focus,

Do I realize,

This Rick is diverse,

Some silent curse,

Has killed more than any one hearse could hope to carry,

Faces benign and scary,

Smooth and hairy,

Young,

As well as old and wary,

all terry here,

No fear,

Simply vacant stares far and near,

It appears,

Their only purpose, is to burn in this furnace,

What did they do to deserve this,

This place is earthless,

And they are it's fuel,

Next to these cadavers,

Many a radiant jewel,

So, I move to inspect,

As I'm naught but a radiant fool,

Now,

What I find is so cruel,

Lost memories in a shimmering pool,

This,

Is the gruel of the devil,

I become disheveled,

Unsettled,

All these shiny pebbles,

In this pool,

We're loved ones left behind,

Good times they could never rewind,

And sentiments never opined,

This is such an intimate find,

That I feel sick,

So I flee quick,

And bump into,

What must be a terrible trick,

Before me is a lit wick,

And I'm wholly bewitched,

As it's flame twitched,

The shadow it cast pitched from side to side,

This stride was the silhouette of the devil,

Dancing with pride,

Around those who died,

Of course,

I elected to hide,

While this shadow danced around its pride and joy,

I am by no means coy,

So I begin to wonder,

If this is a ploy,

To cloy me away from my apathy,

I had to ascertain,

How this came,

To be,

Where I was exactly,

And if my own demons were used to entrap me,

So I set off for the windswept streets,

Excluding my heartbeats,

The solemn ashes silenced all,

Dimming my acuity,

To that of a sleepy fall day,

Once I made my way,

Back out to the streets,

I was met with the manifestation,

That trauma secretes,

A place where mental perdition greets it's guests,

with fiendish feelings,

City blocks,

Butchered into skin peelings,

A plenitude of bomb blasted ceilings,

Shady dealings,

And horrors congealing,

On buildings burnt to a crisp,

Architectural vessels housing naught but a wisp,

Of smoke,

This is not a joke,

This is what my mind's eye sees,

As I close my eyes,

And my mind's eye bleeds,

Now,

As my minds eye proceeds,

I perceive,

The haunting daydreams of the stricken,

It begins when the winds whip in,

Across this avenue of nothing,

The buffeting,

Carries screams of pain,

Oaths to maintain,

Incredible horror,

As I explore more,

The atmosphere becomes poorer,

For the future of me,

I happen upon a fellow junkie,

And a vision of what must be,

His own sordid past,

Cause as he watches his life turn to trash,

He turns to me,

Shoots up,

And turns to ash,

How could this fadeaway bypass,

His bygone lash,

Of time,

His body, soul, & mind,

Are entwined here forever,

To remind us,

That maybe oblivion is better,

Than heaven or hell,

That maybe the wounds of the past,

don't heal so well,

And there's nothing you can do,

To save yourself from history,

As this occurred to me,

It unnerved me,

So I had to hurry on my way,

This onslaught of decay,

Began to belie,

The backdrop of ' everything's ok ',

Slithering in my veins,

In my aimless trek,

Apparitions of others pains,

And all their past strains,

Display an insane show,

The further I go,

The less I know it seems,

But these dreams,

Are unsuitable scenes,

To be the means to my end,

For as an acrid fog,

Begins to descend,

And puts an end to my sight,

I'm confronted with a door,

Not ornate or poor,

Smooth or scored,

Just a regular door,

An entryway into the evermore,

Of my thoughts,

After turning its knob I see lots,

A tangled web of jots,

Senseless scraps tied into knots,

Buzzing like wasps,

And now I know the cost of my game,

In the recesses of my brain,

I finally notice a family in pain,

Over there,

A beast untamed,

And there,

A darkness,

I simply can't explain,

Indeed,

I also perceive,

A carefree need,

To be me,

And to love,

An interest in the stars up above,

And the redolence of a sweet scented,

Summer shrub,

I see mental illness,

And the mischief that it plays,

Bloody Razor blades,

Shredding skin to count the days.

And my mistrust casting a doubtful gaze,

But where do I dare to direct my boots,

at the roots of my affliction,

Addiction,

Ana entryway crooked in its mission,

Dying To be my mortician,

I picture my apparition,

In high definition,

The people I’d haunt,

Rending a spiritual incision,

I open its door in a wary position,

Stopping to listen,

Before I peer inside,

I've arrived,

At a torture chamber lined with shelves,

Stacked atop them,

All the different hells,

For me,

I push open the door,

And step in quietly,

It's dusty,

I've long ago abandoned,

It's crusty surfaces,

I see sharp objects,

With hurtful purposes,

And I'm sure this is,

My own trauma treasury,

I pick up a blood soaked memory,

And it stares back,

as if to say,

Remember me,

I remark that I do,

And that it hurts to touch you,

It spits back " fool! "

I'm the one you should listen to,

I could have all that I would,

The what is with the should,

If I could,

Just,

Put down,

The needle,

[nocturne-shift413]

BLESSED RACCOON

[nocturne-shift413]

Spectacular post in /r/geology today

[nocturne-shift413]

Buddies

On last sketche before going to bed.

It's from a panel at the end of the comics, where you can see them all aligned. I always loved how mostly everyone looks serious and demo's like "We won because of friendship 👍🏿 !"

I gave pyro the googly eyes cosmetic from the game, I love drawing him with these, they give him so much more expression without having to change de shape of the "eyes" themselves (and some eyebrows because why not, it's a drawing I can do whatever I want)

[nocturne-shift413]

[nocturne-shift413]

LONG ASS POEM, from the heart, TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THINK ™️ published on Wattpad

As it were,

As it be,

The roots of affliction I see,

Are an inferno,

A pilgrimage all masochists know,

Where the ashes of fallen angels,

Flurry like snow,

And a frigid furnace,

Is the only source of glow,

Being only a stones throw,

Away,

I approach,

Not to be led astray,

As Innumerable feet have paved the way,

And how could footsteps,

Stoop to betray,

To my surprise,

I find,

When I look with my eyes,

An insurmountable mountain of lives,

Bodies piled to the somber skies,

Juxtaposed,

To smoke stacks of proportionate size,

Only in focus,

Do I realize,

This Rick is diverse,

Some silent curse,

Has killed more than any one hearse could hope to carry,

Faces benign and scary,

Smooth and hairy,

Young,

As well as old and wary,

all terry here,

No fear,

Simply vacant stares far and near,

It appears,

Their only purpose, is to burn in this furnace,

What did they do to deserve this,

This place is earthless,

And they are it's fuel,

Next to these cadavers,

Many a radiant jewel,

So, I move to inspect,

As I'm naught but a radiant fool,

Now,

What I find is so cruel,

Lost memories in a shimmering pool,

This,

Is the gruel of the devil,

I become disheveled,

Unsettled,

All these shiny pebbles,

In this pool,

We're loved ones left behind,

Good times they could never rewind,

And sentiments never opined,

This is such an intimate find,

That I feel sick,

So I flee quick,

And bump into,

What must be a terrible trick,

Before me is a lit wick,

And I'm wholly bewitched,

As it's flame twitched,

The shadow it cast pitched from side to side,

This stride was the silhouette of the devil,

Dancing with pride,

Around those who died,

Of course,

I elected to hide,

While this shadow danced around its pride and joy,

I am by no means coy,

So I begin to wonder,

If this is a ploy,

To cloy me away from my apathy,

I had to ascertain,

How this came,

To be,

Where I was exactly,

And if my own demons were used to entrap me,

So I set off for the windswept streets,

Excluding my heartbeats,

The solemn ashes silenced all,

Dimming my acuity,

To that of a sleepy fall day,

Once I made my way,

Back out to the streets,

I was met with the manifestation,

That trauma secretes,

A place where mental perdition greets it's guests,

with fiendish feelings,

City blocks,

Butchered into skin peelings,

A plenitude of bomb blasted ceilings,

Shady dealings,

And horrors congealing,

On buildings burnt to a crisp,

Architectural vessels housing naught but a wisp,

Of smoke,

This is not a joke,

This is what my mind's eye sees,

As I close my eyes,

And my mind's eye bleeds,

Now,

As my minds eye proceeds,

I perceive,

The haunting daydreams of the stricken,

It begins when the winds whip in,

Across this avenue of nothing,

The buffeting,

Carries screams of pain,

Oaths to maintain,

Incredible horror,

As I explore more,

The atmosphere becomes poorer,

For the future of me,

I happen upon a fellow junkie,

And a vision of what must be,

His own sordid past,

Cause as he watches his life turn to trash,

He turns to me,

Shoots up,

And turns to ash,

How could this fadeaway bypass,

His bygone lash,

Of time,

His body, soul, & mind,

Are entwined here forever,

To remind us,

That maybe oblivion is better,

Than heaven or hell,

That maybe the wounds of the past,

don't heal so well,

And there's nothing you can do,

To save yourself from history,

As this occurred to me,

It unnerved me,

So I had to hurry on my way,

This onslaught of decay,

Began to belie,

The backdrop of ' everything's ok ',

Slithering in my veins,

In my aimless trek,

Apparitions of others pains,

And all their past strains,

Display an insane show,

The further I go,

The less I know it seems,

But these dreams,

Are unsuitable scenes,

To be the means to my end,

For as an acrid fog,

Begins to descend,

And puts an end to my sight,

I'm confronted with a door,

Not ornate or poor,

Smooth or scored,

Just a regular door,

An entryway into the evermore,

Of my thoughts,

After turning its knob I see lots,

A tangled web of jots,

Senseless scraps tied into knots,

Buzzing like wasps,

And now I know the cost of my game,

In the recesses of my brain,

I finally notice a family in pain,

Over there,

A beast untamed,

And there,

A darkness,

I simply can't explain,

Indeed,

I also perceive,

A carefree need,

To be me,

And to love,

An interest in the stars up above,

And the redolence of a sweet scented,

Summer shrub,

I see mental illness,

And the mischief that it plays,

Bloody Razor blades,

Shredding skin to count the days.

And my mistrust casting a doubtful gaze,

But where do I dare to direct my boots,

at the roots of my affliction,

Addiction,

Ana entryway crooked in its mission,

Dying To be my mortician,

I picture my apparition,

In high definition,

The people I’d haunt,

Rending a spiritual incision,

I open its door in a wary position,

Stopping to listen,

Before I peer inside,

I've arrived,

At a torture chamber lined with shelves,

Stacked atop them,

All the different hells,

For me,

I push open the door,

And step in quietly,

It's dusty,

I've long ago abandoned,

It's crusty surfaces,

I see sharp objects,

With hurtful purposes,

And I'm sure this is,

My own trauma treasury,

I pick up a blood soaked memory,

And it stares back,

as if to say,

Remember me,

I remark that I do,

And that it hurts to touch you,

It spits back " fool! "

I'm the one you should listen to,

I could have all that I would,

The what is with the should,

If I could,

Just,

Put down,

The needle,

[nocturne-shift413]