Saint Morbid's blog: "poetry"

the frame of my void sharp and jagged. a picturesque scene of broken glass. and a heart-warming dissolve of perfection. sane reality holds fast. my wounds transpire in a hidden fortress. forged inside a calm lake of ice. below the numb of cold a battle rages. only in lies and self sacrifice. this placid place of anger and hate. fires rage and thoughts are twisted. shadows fill corners and light flees. but never knowing this existed.

no longer a marionette. only yours in loving death. there in wake will lie a beauty. a putrid heart to beat newly. a melancholy shadow risen. a forgotten soul to do what's bidden. blood to be spilled and avenged. a tortured puppet makes amends. decay of wasted matyrs you find. are all that shes left behind. at her hands they did cry. as she runs rampant they all die. the lies remebered as she woke. wind me up the dollie spoke.

so love me. and i'll keep you. while you. sing me a sad song. send me nightmare. lie to me. and break my heart. i can take it. i'll take all your pain. and carry it myself. i'm your martyr.

i've been tossed. like a rag doll. that no one wants. i'm lost. with nowhere to run. a melancholy spirit. chained by misfortune. hiding... behind a fortress. in my world. a place for the broken. to rest. stitch the wounds. and hope to heal.