Rapture Album

I'm sleeping with a knife again
I'm just a drawing on the wall
sooner or later everything falls apart
every day a punishment

I have tried so hard to do right
fought to heal every hurt
every turn I take
leads me back to where I started from

all my dreams
they die on me
and I don't think
there's ever healing it

the days grow long
filled with empty hours
when I wake up alone
with these shadows as my only company

splinters of glass at my feet
silence in her white dress
like dust on books no-one reads
and beds no-one sleeps in anymore

(speechless nameless sleepless alone)

"...the fog is rising"
[Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)]

You drift away in a bitter dusk by scattering the snow that held
angel-like images in our blurry memories of childhood.
escaping every when, who or why
ebony eyes disappeared
I cannot longer bear this as it revels in my misery

if only I didn't care, I'd smile and merrily wave my hand goodbye
my possessions are gone, there is no point to go on
our foolish intents built my future plans
I can't go forwards or back
I am stuck in a forever dying moment

more ...I sway here forevermore
until lovely gaia is burnt to the core
you'll find me at the gallows

I sleep by the gallows in complete solitude that I used to cherish
but now my visions are clear and solarsigns in a nebular hill
cast a fallen morning star right behind me and it sighs:
"you won't feel a thing, it is only great relief
so slit your wrists open by this"

begone at the silent shores.
shine on! this is the end of the world
all beauty is lost and so is all you had ever abhorred

and I raise my blindfold gaze
a night mare of ending my life becomes a part of
this miserable joy of reality
to sell my fortune
to leave them all behind
to hide all the trails as I never existed
nothing remains irrelevant in these murky chambers...
dark and dismal chambers of agony

a cruel gathering of tragedies lead our way to the dreamscapes
where they feed the rope by our necks
no feet on this solid soil but a floating silhouette
against the setting sun
by gravity life force flows slowly away
it is silent at the gallows again

one day darkness showed up at my door
ate the light, closed my world
told me the demons where here
and that I was wrong
all along

everything washes away
fear and despair
never knew what they meant
until the black
came my way

in our full circle
we fed each other
in the fall

in this cold year
that consumed the strength, the will
with so little to hold near

if I was the sky
would I hold you dear
(or come crashing down)
two dead names waiting
two dead names

reaching out with cold hands
wishing it would all come together
(in a final infinite white)
two dead names screaming
two dead names

"And so I leave this world, where the heart
must either break or turn to lead."
[Nicolas-Sebastien Chamfort (1741-1794)]

(isolation is complete
diseases on our skin
reflect us upon the earth
the light is dim and the air is dead
through delirium I realized why!)

now I draw the line
to resign from the world of mine
begin from being no one
rise higher and higher to hit the ground
see divided earth as reflections:
debris of mankind under desperation
rise higher and higher to hit the ground

bid farewell to the casket vultures
maggots our only friends...from now on
a magnet-like deadend trap
awaits us all in the end

and it is so...
futile - in the end, fragile -in the end
precious -in the end, vicious -in the end

our shelter is the emptiness
the stretched void for all
dying arrangements demand
bittersweet caress after all
nihilistic - perfection - nihilistic
transfixion for the butterflies of joy
the truth unfolds: to the end with nothing...

like thy insects in envenomed rapture
they reach for the warmth, light and the beauty
wings burnt, pin-transfixed and life force withered
another ignorant one for my collection

bid welcome new airless home in a box
maggots our only companion from now on
sinews relaxed you know this can't go on forever
it awaits us all in the end

something's quite not right
again sleep escapes me, far away
you're the whisper in the back of my head
teething, serrated and smiling

knee-deep in this hopeless wreckage
a heartbreak
to tear me apart
swallowed by the vast, all-consuming
demanding you here

this uncontrollable hell
a lightless abode
a sleepless complete black
where ghosts come to me
through every hole
in each and every wall

wish I could just sleep
wish I could explain
wish I could change the way of things
wish I would fall away

it's a slow closure
a cold shape crawling behind me
a storm approaching
a darkness always closer
I ever thought it could
can never see it coming

the world I'm in is empty
outside I think I choke
somehow I can't help thinking
there is no place for me

(the noise in my head won't leave)

"all fled--all done
so lift me on the pyre
the feast is over
and the lamps expire."
[Robert E. Howard (1906-1936)]

it was ll in the rain
it was in her eyes
tears dropped in anguish and distress
in the nerves of pain was boiling the warmth of grace
we run against the tide
severed with the losses of logic
love left me unimpressed
I keep on walking the path of tragedy

let me attend let me represent
my muse lays dead down on the brimstone row
wounded night let your children descend
arteries cut, now let the inspirations flow
we run against the tide
severed with the losses of logic
love left me unimpressed
I keep on walking the path of tragedy

before the last breath -inhale
before the final death -exhale
can you live with the lie and still keep your faith?
did you think you could fly without any damage done?
you can't beat the burden of the lonely so you'd open the gate?
find yourself relevant in the world that is gone?
did you think you could fly without any damage done?
rain runs its tracks to the ground in which you'll eternally dwell

"angels... they never existed
my belief is not enough twisted
to hold up such religious characters.
what were you thinking of?"
(Timothy Findley)

a great stone by the tree details carved
no candlelight beside
for frozen rains looked after that its fire would starve
like the blaze she died
no more run against the tide
only the grandeur of abiding
she keeps on lying beneath the trails of rain...
lifeless.... silent

here we are
together in this darkness
enveloped in the
deepest shade of black
connected through this misery
lingering in the air

the burden of goodbye
a heavy ringing in my ear
it's a silent reminder
an afterthought of sorts

bad dreams, hollow sleep
of dark rooms, empty homes
and things without names
memories of murder
the shades that fell

I wouldn't prefer to answer
the question
the last quiet cord to be
severed
nothing to take with you
nothing left for you to keep

the music is over, there's no-one here
it's snowing heavily
I can't even see my breath escaping
never to return

"I lingered around them,
under that benign sky;
watched the moths fluttering
among the heath of harebells
listened the soft wind
breathing though the grass;
and wondered how anyone
could ever imagine unquiet slumbers
for the sleepers in the quiet earth."
(Emily Bronte (1818-1848))

a noise quieter than a dying breath
mirrors on the blank side of the paper
a need to control this suicide
something I'll never quite understand

what would heal these holes
marks left by the feeding needle
tonight the bullets turn into keys
and we escape

this was the day of losing control
a sea of silence where I go
stuck somewhere between a blick and a tear
and the great distance

maybe it was just a ghost of a voice
I thought I once heard
maybe nothing of the like
maybe it was a memory
I thought I saw creeping by
maybe nothing

"Better to die, and to sleep
The never waking sleep, than linger on,
And dare to live, when the soul's life is gone."
[Sophocles (496BC-406-5BC)]

was I bewitched by the thin red line
and let it snip the silver twine
I stare in silence
that is mine

discomfort of my silent fear, so icy cold,
yet somehow seems to sear my soul
until the ache's too much to bear,
as mortal life now disappears

to steal sweet youth before it turned to gold.
existence now is not what I was told;

wastelands of sorrow, I welcome all I receive
blood before tears, you will see
cold and redundant, I deserve everything I get

what joy, want for nothing
sweet rapture for I am nothing

desolation is a delicate thing