nekrosys

i saw you float by - shimmering, iridescent. light played off you swirling, oscillating. i was mesmerized by your radiant colors. you seemed to be knitted with fine strands of silk and specks of colored glass. you were a cloud of light. you were a glittering mist. i watched you shudder, now and then, as stiff breezes came, but you were steadfast, not diverted from your course. my insides were churning, quaking as you glided by. my sphere was drawn to you by the gravity of your presence. i yearned to be near you and to feel your surface brush - for just a moment - against mine. but i was ashamed of my own shell -

wedding bells filled the air the day of the funeral. veiled vows of love spoken the day of the funeral. rose petals on satin white the day of the funeral. golden rings unbroken the day of the funeral. you look at me and say, \"it\'s not so bad to be lonely.\" as the last chapter\'s written, you sit and watch the funeral.

the child you hold, the child on your knee, is the child we spoke of during endless rainy nights. the past and present collide, like two negatives superimposed in some ironic picture of what might have been. for you know she is not yours. in your more perfect world, where I was a boy and sperm meeting sperm could make a child, it might have been reality. speared through by jagged shards of "what ifs", my indelible mark tattooed on your soul threatens to crack in bloody remorse, as you cradle Anasthasia-then Emili-now in the crook of your arm.

mushroom clouds in their eyes they know the end is near. innocence tells no lies, truth written with a tear. infants wear masks of death the day of the vision. it rises from the depths, the beast known as legion. everywhere that i turn the vision follows me. parents blind as strollers burn, while walking to the sea. they greet him with a smile, bathing dark in false light. the children all this while, the only ones with sight. visages of aged men the children sadly wear. frightened eyes wide open see the prince of the air. with many signs and wonders, the masses are deceived. to hell he swiftly luers, the ones that once

i yearn for the day when i will meet you unencumbered by this temporal tent of sin. i long to stand before you, the impurities singed away from our entangled spirits; the lumber removed from our eyes. i want to know the essence of you, the pure seed that was encased in filth when Adam chose to eat the apple. i desire true communion, free from the corrosion of this world; to be known as i am known. i catch fleeting glimpses of how it\'ll be, now and then - like watercolors splashed on the fading mists of morning; like the scent of perfume carried on a soft summer breeze. the sacred lies just beyond my reach. my fingertips br

a canopy of trees smothers overhead, unable to muffle the anguish of my tortured soul. \"is this the shadowy realm of insanity?\", i ask the darkness. my only answer is the sound of my sweat, dripping into crimson pools of blood. i visited here before, long ago before the sun melted the icicles. it was my home. i\'d lay in the dried, decaying leaves and the pain would wash over me, envelope me like a funeral shroud. i\'d whisper into the black frosty air like a lunatic in a padded cell. i must\'ve known i\'d be back. every prophet, every martyr, every child has passed through this wood at one time or another. alone i we

Contrition By Jennifer Malatesta Copyright 1998, 2003 His heart pounded through his ribcage. Sweat poured down his forehead and stung his eyes. He knew it was getting closer with every panicked breath he took.  Somehow he was certain this was the night he would come face to face with the entity that had been searching for him for so long. Each night, he stumbled out of his bed, creeping through the dark to the bathroom. The air in the hallway always seemed thicker than it had the previous evening. He began to believe the evil could sense his location by how his shifting body displaced the atmosphere.  Similar to the way ripples in a pond