Once Upon a Midnight...

Once,

Twice,

Thrice upon a time.

The clock that never strikes on the hour,

But upon the memories of heart loss and pain,

As it's powered by tears,

For it washes the blood away.

The little dagger and long ax,

Are the instruments that tell the time.

"For torture."
Of course one person might say.

"For each little man dies in some way."

Even if the person is alive and well,

Suffering is the thing that drags on,

In what we call,

"A livin' hell, sir?" 

"Correct my good man." I answer the voices.

"Correct indeed."

Two twin pale forms of human
Are watching the clock as they are filled with glee.

Their pointy teeth are not at all messy,

And their hair is certainly dressy.

Their suits however can be a drag,

But they wanted to do this so they can be a brag.

"Stop with the rhyming strange writer!" One says.

"It's time for the killing." The other says.

Then with the instruments of the clock,

Now in their hands,

They come closer to me,

As I'm filled with regret.

But they do it slow and painless,

As they trick me in the eye,

Making me think how I'm,

NOT,

Going to die.

But they trick me,

Both of them with their smiles wide,

As they slash me open.

"Bye bye creator." They sing to me,

"We shall see you in the next story."

MyHouseofSorrow

I'mConfused,

I'mConfused,

I'mSeriously Confused.

IDon'tUnderstand,

IDon'tUnderstand,

IDon't Understand.

WhyDoIFeelThatICan'tTakeItAnymore??

TheVoicesStabMeLikeKnives,

TheHugsAreNowPoolsOfPoison,

AndMusicIsMyHouseofSorrow.

MyHandsAre Chained,

Stapled,

AndGlued Together.

TheyAreInABind,

A Contract,

ForEndless Pain.

In Exchange?

ALifeOfDyingSlowly.

I CanNoLonger SeeTheSun.

I Can'tEvenSmell SweetThings.

MyMouthOnly TastesSand,

AndIt'sBitterWithSalt OfMyTears.

I Can'tEvenSpeak words.

I OnlySpeak GibberGabber.

Ach!Ach! 

MyOnlyCry ForHelp.

EveryOneThoughIs FarFromMe.

MyLovedOnesTowerLike Pillars InAnEmptyMansion.

They OnlyStare,

AsI ScreamBack:

ACH! ACH!

HE-

HE-----

HELP!

No OneResponds.

EveryOneWeeps,

AstThey DecideNot ToReachMe.

ThenThey All Leave,

MyHouseofSorrow.

The Captivating Journal Entries of Beauty

Gentle river, Rippled all across it's bank. Two pair of eyes penetrate it's surface. A pale hand comes out. It wants to touch the sky. The lips want to kiss the moon. But the fingers retreat. A head of long golden white hair flows in the bank. The eyes are now blue like the sea. The fingernails are clear as colorless glass. But this creature then dips back down into the lake. It's tail flukes gently before leaving.


This happened on the first night.

She appears again. Her head pops out of the water. Her eyes only notice the moon. I don't hide as I watch her. Her head is posed in a 45 degree angle. A perfect picture of beauty.

That was the second night.

On the third, her hand was perched on her chest and her neck stretched to the moon as her voice ascended. The song was rung by the gravitational pull as the waves carried the voice to the moon. I couldn't breath as I wished to be that moon.

She then disappeared for two days after...

Once she came back, another hand was perched in hers. But was the opposite of her. It's large hand took her small hand whole. It's eyes were pale as clouds. It's hair dark as any black hole.

But it had no tail.

That day, she finally saw me. As I looked at her with a stricken heart.

She put her hand out to me.

She sang me a song.

But I couldn't reach her.

I couldn't even touch her.

As I was the one,

The lonely soul,

Standing on that moon.