Of Wreath and Yuletide Omens
A sound wakes you.
Or was it only there in the realm between waking and dream?
Drowsy and with sinew
Of Blue Blood and Burning Sanctuaries
Cut me open
Separate the seams that bind
Until I no longer see my Self
—As long as I bleed
We, The Flagellants
We build ourselves a cage to attain that which a broken society tells us we need to want. And in
Our Painted Faces
Paint your faces.
Layer upon layer.
A chosen reality.
To masquerade as the thing we dreamt of being.
Bent and
To Defy the Mirror's Truth
A Descent
(adapted from the original text written in MMXXIV)
She gazed deep within herself and saw its mark—the
One Moment of Quiet Solitude
The chaos of our society, its dogma’s and its pressure—it gets to me. And it gets to most
In Conclave They Sanction Our Ways
The social dogma's of our world seem to grow by the hour. The general consensus on what we
To Muse Upon This Vexing Realm
I look upon this world, vexed and troubled by its state–disbelief and worry stirring within me. Merged in the
To Mourn Our Loss of Self
Steerless and without direction, adrift on an open, black sea in the darkness of night.
Surrendered to the currents of