The Oceania

thy walk down,
upon thy skin lie
cuts, of which
self-inflicted.

for i you always,
my beloved.

The Gaelic Ceremony

thy skin peels,
and hellish depths arose,
for once you go down,
there are no ropes.
the pits are well lit,
by fiery souls, but
dont awaken too
quick, for that is a trick,
only for fools.

A Journey Into A Nightmare

The Journey Into A Nightmare

Spirits of an old man follow,
And I let the overwhelming feelings swallow,
Thou must rest at the Ghost Pine,
Saturninus o’ Saturn, and the Spirit o’ Turpentine.

Painted pattern thinned and stripped bare,
A mind doing circles inside of it’s square,
Thou not forgiven, for I made a sacred swear,
Ne’er did thou think but about thyself.

The Ghost Pine

Thou art completely gone,
Thou hast gone too far down,
Thy ropes hast knotted,
And thou hath become rotted,
Formally, a being of physicality,
And now thou hast plotted into,
A shadow of what reality once was,—
The Loss.

The Loss

Thou art losing the fight,
Thy light is fading,
The blinds providing shade,
And thy blade is finally dull,—
The Events Betwixt Madness.

The Events Betwixt Madness, An Interlude

Thou hast fully immersed,
In the shadow of unconciousness,
Thou art making decisions,
And regretting every one of them,
Thou art fighting to steal control,
In the bank of your mind.— The Heist.

The Heist

controlling the dreamscape,
thou can only wish to escape,
ones damned fate,
for all hell awaits.

The Heist

dreamweaver

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