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chained by your dreams
you've become a slave
to your emotions
like the dead
you cannot llive again
Forbidden PleasuresThe way your flesh yields
under the pressure of the thorns
-what a sight to behold-
Oh, it makes me tremble in pleasure.
It's 'cause of this twisted me,
this sadist that I am
I want to make you experience our affair
at a whole new level
I'll drown you in wine
and tear you apart.
I'll make it as painfull as possible,
So that you will scream
with every part of your existence
of our forbidden act.
Don't look at me with those eyes
or they will steal my soul away,
make me fall for you even more.
Every pain that licks your flesh
is enough to send chills of exitement
down my spine, into my very core.
You look up to me and smile.
You feel me, you understand,
I knew you would,
only you could.
'cause it was all for you, my masochist.
It was because I love you so..
TransformationMany times I have wished
I was a swallowtail butterfly
Away from unwanted "friends"
and useless lovers
And most of all
away from the memory of you.
I hoped for my own blue sky
even if it only lasted a few moments
-'cause in the end, life is short isn't it?-
what I have turned into
is an insect without wings
What is your sin?"Can you see it? What is your sin?"
That part of you.
I always hated it.
saying it's unfair
for you to be punished this way
You mean to tell me you don't realise it?
You can't feel it burning in your veins?
Can you not hear it's voice?
"Think harder and tell me. What is your sin?"
It was my fault -you say-
I tricked you into this mess.
I wish that was the case.
Then I would burn in your place..
So you intend to continue with this stupidity..
Let me tell you now
I am nothing like the creatures you created
for your peace of mind
and I refuse to be your scapegoat.
Why do you still so stubornly
refuse to face your responsibility?
"An error cannot be corrected if not realised.
Which is it?Poetry's an open door
or so you say
The Truth is always simple
that's what few of them claim
Then what's the problem with us?
Standing infront of the Door
Could it be that we are too blind
to see what is behind,
Or that we simply do not wish to do so?
Which is it?
CircusWithin a tent of red and blue
In the heart of the carnival
A funny circus hosts it shows,
They've sent invites to all.
It is a one-man lonely show
given by a wind-up clown.
The crowd there cannot see him play
But it doesn't bring him down.
He juggles with his knives all day
-That silly little clown-
For children without eyes
that can no longer laugh or frown.
He wants to please and make them laugh.
But no one's left alive.
Still he just plays and hopes and waits
for some one to arrive.
Oh, foolish clown, why can't you see?
Your efforts are in vain.
Or could it be you're so alone
you cannot bear the pain..
But I know your secret -I'm you,
you're me- my funny pierrot.
You killed them all and now
you're left here rotting all alone.
Within a tent of red and blue
The sight in so grotesque.
And insane circus host it's shows
avoiding it, is for the best..
Didn't we start from Wonderland?
See? I jumped down the Rabbit Hole
I had promised you, hadn't I?
But I still have a question..
When did we switch Fairy Tales?
Without thinking, I find myself
Following the same path
as Hansel and Gretel.
The witche's Gingerbread house
sure looks tempting!
Yet, I don't waste my time here
with the others.
I don't want to. I'm aiming too high
to do so. My goal is you.
I say that, but,
though I still follow you,
You're so ahead of me
I can't even hear your watch's ticking
And all this time, I cannot help
but feel alone, so alone.
Much like the frog in the well.
All that's left for me is to look
at that tiny piece of blue sky
And dream of the outside
And hope to someday catch you.
..even if I don't know what you look like
Yet no matter how much I wish
for this foolish dream of you.
No matter how hard I try to climb out
into the warm light.
I always end up falling.
And when the pain from falling
that is when I begin to wond
So many things on my mind.
So little time
My heart wishes to write.
My hand cannot obey my desire.
And what to write about
in the first place?
About sadness and melancholy
engraved in one's heart
as he struggles his way through life?
A deranged mind
twisting fairy tales into nightmares
having lost all contact with reality?
Should I talk about the people?
Lonely, insane, hatefull, disgusting
crawling their way aroung the city.
Or maybe a war, a product of greed
Leaving in it's wake a sorrowful nomansland.
The maimed corpses, the mad ghosts, the
cries of the innocent.
It ought to be a poem
about pitiful people
with pitiful problems
leading to great disaster.
I wish to write.
But I wouldn't know were to begin.
The inner darkness
or outer darkness
I need to write.
But what difference would it make?
And yet, I wonder.
If we give up on talking
about this mess we're in.
Who will be left mourn for
Follow the White Rabbit
Lost in Wondelrland
I want to follow you
little white rabbit,
I really do.
But, Mr. White, you scare me so
Will you leave me?
Will you hurt me?
Should I trust you?
I don't mind playing croquet with the Queen.
Tea parties with the Hatter? Sounds like fun.
I can put up with Dee & Dum's company.
But they are all mad, little rabbit.
If you leave me alone here...
..won't I go mad too?..
don't toy with me, wicked little rabbit
An answer is all that I need.
Just one word from you, my dear
And I too will jump down the Rabbit Hole
Don't look at me with those eyes.
Your games drive me insane.
But, even so, be careful white rabbit.
The clock is ticking backwards..
..and I grow bored so easily..
Ahh, my little white rabbit
I see through your deceptive ways.
All your promises are lies
And I'll be left alone in the Rose Garden..
And even though it's obvious
you are only playing with me
I'll close my eyes, Mr. White,
and like the fool I am..
..I'll follow the White Rabbit..
(Boku no S
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
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