Have you lost your wits already?

When you have skulked under the moon
laughing for a while, then crying,
and before you know; you're drowning in both,
and you want to fight it
but also give in.

Have you reached that point already?
When there is no looking back.
Knowing you won't forgive yourself,
that easily.
Yet you'll be there. Just like me. 

Who are you?

I was. Till I ceased to be.
I'm nothing more than the memories
that haunt me.
Flesh sunken to the very bone,
Hopeless clinging on to what
remains of this mortal coil, unhinged
Perhaps in longing itself, a world lost a life
I'm no more a star studded, moon lit night
But the pitch black that threatens to consume
those that stray.
I did once.
Content in knowing that indeed you cannot escape
the demons you're forever running from,
But slay them, and if you prey on one too many.
You are only to be one,
For another to feast.

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 Apologies. I'll finish it tomorrow. Sleeplessness is taking its toll... 

Dread

You took over my mind,

And I couldn't bear it,

Dancing on the edge of sanity,

In drink, I thought I could 

Drown you.

You were in my heart,

But I couldn't tear you out,

A bit of steel tearing flesh,

I thought I could bleed 

You out.

Yet you tore into my soul,

And I couldn't claim it back

Now I wake waiting the dark, 

Hoping a slow halt to take

Me now.

A little taste of history

I'm a drunk, its the only time I can stand it all...

You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it--it's the
only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks
your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually
drunk.
But on what?Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be
drunk.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of
a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again,
drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave,
the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything
that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is
singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and
wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you:"It is time to be
drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be
continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."

Charles Baudelaire

The Bird Of Hermes - Ripley Scrolls

                                          The Bird of Hermes is my name 

                           Eating my wings to keep me tame

From broken bodies blood is shed

Soon to become ghouls undead

The Bird of Hermes shall come soon

Be it morning, evening, afternoon

The Bird of Hermes feeds on fright

Soon blood shall stain the wicked night

The Bird of Hermes will devour

His enemies in the midnight hour

The Bird of Hermes is my name

Eating my wings to keep me tame

The night shall soon be stained with red

Your army lies bleeding and dead

Their bodies shall rise soon

And join The Bird’s dark platoon

You shall learn to live in night

Obeying ghouls made to fight

The blood shall be a ghastly shower

The Bird’s enemies shall run and cower

The Bird of Hermes is my name

Eating my wings to keep me tame

Ode to the Innocent

Be the difference you are wanting to see
But are you to stake yourself for it?
In sin and repentance,
Life in wait and we bide our time
Lost be forever wherein guilty pleasures are found
Glory be dreams,
Scratching at the fiber in our hearts
Search in words for a surrender
Let love be sound.