I haven't seen these words in years. I hope they remember me. I remember them. Let's hope they aren't so frugal as some, and more generous than most... I hope they remember that together we thought we could be something more then just two seperate compartments in the same soul. Lets see now.
Oh pressing darkness! In this infinite prison of onyx
Where cold is cold. It’s jealous and unrequited. Love fills the room
Silhouettes formed out of the black, paradigms of space
As I, under the cover of blankets, trace my steps into the day’s itinerary
Time finds no existence in this sable pitch, only
A blue zero, six, semi colon, three and one, floating in my periphery
Senses surface and silently rally to their banners of memories
I taste my tongue, feel my fingertips, hear my heartbeat, and know that
There, they, these, are the triggers, we find ourselves in
Black bullets remind me. Not only do I live, but that I am different
Denying death with the depth of a deep waking breath
Suited slick with sulfurous suffering, my brain branded with burden
As I, the sun starved subterranean, slips out of bed
And remember my mourning appointment with the Necromancer
Waiting with the sorely mist on a cruel day that does not smile
A black procession of metal and death wherein each heart carries a coffin
Miss Direction to my right. A limb collector I’m sure
If only dreams had died in waking we would not feel any pain
In this we are all murderers. Asleep or awake we bury our dreams
Set them to new tunes
