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Terror journey

March 23, 2014


Walk in the midst of the buried voices,
yell for purgatory destination,
create disturbance in order to connect with the tortured souls.

Call out to the fallen spirits,,
those whose voices are swallowed by the wind blowing below the cliff
defeated whispers,
unreachable by the sane.

Soar with the imps,
tear the sensations aimed at you,
haunted with the objects of your obsession.

Tear your conscious,
bury your skull,
in the terror of time,
your hands are an ocean,
awaiting a wave of disaster.


From → dark poetry

One Comment
  1. WOW…I will delve into your poems now. This is powerful stuff. Have you read Janet Frame?


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