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My ImmortalThe shadow of who he used to be
Still lingers; a ghost in the night
swaying in a dance of memory
Of hours past that I held dear
Conducted by the scented candles
With his name carved into their waxen flesh.
Whispers of a life that inspired my dreams
Echoes of a heartbeat so pure, so true.
A silhouette of love that breathes only in darkness
In the slumberless void of my solitude.
I watch him weaving through my thoughts
Numberless sighs escape my lips
And my arms reach -hopeless- to pull him near
Only to embrace my wretched self in the dark.
I know him only when I am alone.
I keep him safe, untouched in my heart
The portraits I paint are dated two years
Of a man whose eyes sang lullabies
Whose pride was love, whose pain was loss
A man that taught me ultimate devotion.
His shadow beckons when the clock strikes three
And I follow him into the night
We stand again beneath the stars
His outline deep, kissed with moonlight
The rain gently begins to fall
And all his words my ears recall
To LoveI'll sit in silent vigil: Your deathbed bride
Dressing coffins for past recollections
Drawn from our joined lips; each sigh of pain
Till all that hurt you died
I'll kiss all scars, all imperfections
Again and again....
A Creation of Love
Your breath is the sweet scent of lilies
intoxicating all thought
All I know, feel and see is you.
The sensation of each whisper against my skin
Your hair gently brushing my breast
As you kiss the core of my soul.
The wounds of each historic tragedy
are healed with our sealed lips.
And songs sung in the dead of night
to render all the stars so bright
Shall live beyond our years
The timeless music of eternity.
We transfused our blood into each other's veins
Each infusion of your essence left me bound
Addicted to all that you are.
Your absence brings the sweetest withdrawals
Desire unfurling like a rose within my chest
The hunger for your warmth and the darkness of your light.
Our souls are weaving irrevocably still
And soon I shall breathe no other breath but yours
And the arteries and veins that sustain our hearts
Shall be tied in one grand structure of art
The architecture of love.
The next time you sleep with me embraced
We shall breathe as one with a single heart
With you inside me,
Blood for a Shadow.As the sun bleeds in the sky
And his shadow joins the night
He takes his crimson candle
And casts its flame alight
Dusk; she comes to eclipse sun
Raven tresses fill the air
And the stars are nothing more
Than white flowers in her hair
While the flame dances enchanted
He plays for her a song
His shadow weeps beneath the feet
Of whom it does belong
Her menstrual moon gleams full and bright
Upon its rays her bare feet dance
And anklet bells begin to sound
Melodic spells keyed to entrance
He watches her descend to him
An artist's dream; her marble face
For each full moon this rock had been
Their sacred meeting place
She came for a gift he would freely give
in exchange for a wish that his dreams would live
His shadow; the sun had forbade her to take
That slumbered in darkness when she would awake
...Lost to her...
His lips gave birth to poetry sweet
Each word laced with seductive need
To tempt her lust with passion's play
And combine red blood
A Heaven of HellHe surrenders his flesh to the earth
His eyes sealed tight in the sweetest dreams
Where his breath is hers and beauty streams
And he is her bound slave
To take her to heights where death has no name.
Eleven red roses and one pure white
Shall be the hearse for his loving heart
Romanticide: The lover's art
He dies upon her grave
Finding Heaven and Hell are one and the same.
On preparing to never let goWalking slowly down the hall, arms filled with the day's mail, we spoke of morbid things.
She wants to be reduced to ash and I want to know if I can keep her on my mantle.
She looks at me sideways with a curious face and forgets her footsteps.
It's a little bit morbid, she tells me, deciding it's time to continue shuffling along,
but I think the way I'm trying to picture her perfect urn is probably worse.
There's nothing that I can think of that suits her, though,
and I wonder if I even know her.
Do I scatter you somewhere? You can't visit scatter.
(I think good daughters plant guilt in the carpet pile to trip upon.)
But she doesn't trip, instead she ruminates on how appalling it'd be to divide her in fourths:
she laughs as she's divvying up her body parts for our mantles.
I tell her we'll set up a custody schedule, but only between my closest sister and me;
we're the ones that take care of her. But in reality, I'm not planning on sharing.
She tells me she wants to be in the n
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More