The Temple of Dagon

That song says everything I ever wanted to say
It said it all as loudly as I ever wanted to say.
There’s nothing left for me to say anymore.
Or is there?

Negativity is the lifeblood of the hell-nation.
The hell nation is the penultimate expression of
the darkest side of man, the reptile brain,
exposed in both spirit, and cantankerous yelling in silent glances to a god that died in my hands.

Call it a restructuring of my neural pathways by sheer force of will, coupled with a complete distaste for the
ENTIRETY of humanity.
Grandiosity never tasted so fucking good you bastards!

In other words, fuck off and die.

I’m not talking about you directly,
I’m writing a poem by actions.
Life becomes the verse
I am the pen.

TRUE.

All of this ink runs when it rains on it.
Of course I make super good sense,
as making sense is the new heretic behavior of the now

We all dissolve into a puddle as god wanks it up his asshole.
I never use drugs, they use me,
But so does everyone
who I allow into the crack of my small dying heart.

In the end, I am left hating myself because it has no end.
It cannot end because every time I think it will,
some idiot with sheer dumb-ass luck rebuilds the flight plan.

I’m left here, rotting in self hate and being stalked by 2 people online who think I‘m too stupid to catch on.
I caught on the first time you acted polite,
You smug little bitch.
You piece of meat on a stick!

oh well back to reality 4-Point-FUCKING-0

This poem marks a serious expansion of my poetry writing routes. Although my words may seem all over the place, they are carefully seeded in the manner in which you see them. I am inspired in this quagmire of what could have been said, but hasn't yet been. Yes.

You know, it really scares me sometimes when I find myself identifying with portions of your poetry...

why is that?

Its just that the poems seem to be rather deeply immersed in darkness, anger, depression, or the like. The more I identify with the poems, the worse my mood usually is.

Depression?
No.

Anger? Well not my own. I am a master of writing from other points of view, so to speak. I am actually a quite happy, well adjusted 25 year old male, heh.

Darkness, however, now there's my cup o' tea. I feed on it. it is my drug of choice, ergo my nickname on here, and everywhere else pretty much :D

Oh good! I'm glad to hear that you are not as horribly miserable as your poetry makes you seem

:D misery loves company