crimsonarchon's profile

The flesh is fresh and we are all enamored with The rock star syllabus that is the doorway of your mind. I could search through the detritus of hope’s broken kingdoms But this point upon your solemn heart exists upon no line. I wish to dwell eternally in the house of your virtuosity, And has anyone ever mentioned that you have delicious eyes? I dream nightly of your perfection and the intersection Of the depth and breadth of soul where all true lovers go to die. Communication begets ill...

Prologue The man in black charged recklessly forward, his gore-stained broadsword cutting a swath through the opposition. Blood sprayed copiously from the freshly cleaved skull of his latest kill, but the man had no time to notice. His blade had already begun searching for new foes, those unlucky souls that bore the badge of Dryvia. There was no time now to think, no time to wonder why he felt alive only when surrounded by death. Later, perhaps, there would be time for guilt and regret, but i...

 I visited your grave today. I stared at the dirt awhile, alone. I smoked a cigarette and flicked My ashes on your bones. I stopped and had a pint In a bar the size of a closet, The taste of Guiness stout And the smell of sawdust Were more of a testament to your memory Than a headstone and some dirt will ever be. It's sad how much memory has faded Over time until only a hint of truth remains, A tickle, a mere whisper. I won't be visiting anymore If, in some way, you still live on It's in...

 Introduction   Every person on Earth has at least one thing in common. Whether they are rich or poor, black or white, man or woman or child, there is one tie, one irrevocable fact that binds us all together. That is, of course, that someday we must all die.   The methods of death are, of course, infinitely variable. Some of us will go in car accidents. Some by contraction of disease, communicable or genetic. Some of us will die in our sleep, peaceful in our beds. Some quietly,...

When the light is perfect The whores all look so beautiful Drowning in the perfumed sea Of love and lust and everything Weak flowers bending in the breeze Their blood red petals, fragile, perched Upon such spare and delicate frames As pure as lovers without names Like voices born within our dreams Drawn from our fading memories Spread open just like centerfolds So innocent they seem to be But they are only what we wish And only then until we've had our fill And otherwise they have no place Sa...