yourpleasantdarkness

 Sin is so delicious. Disaster is so enchanting. Danger is so enticing. These negatives, cons of the world, wrapped in glimmering gold attract even the most straightforward of people, be it priest, prophet, or pastor. Something in the way the titanic sank, cries screaming from on board, something in the way the towers fell, disaster filling the air, something about maladies and plagues, disasters and the dead reaches out and pulls us in. But why would something as attractive as the burns and bites of tragedy call to us so? Perhaps, maybe just perhaps, it is that the coils of the snake that slowly strangle us in the darkness are just out of th

My not-so-random opinion on the words "too good to me". People say these words when they feel as if they're being treated too kindly or that some rare form of generosity is being shown to them, something they are undeserving of. I don't agree with their beliefs. Why? Because when I look at the people I'm "too good to", I see people who put themselves down and look at themselves and see the darkest corners of their heart and believe that is all they are comprised of; completely overlooking all the good they do and how wonderful they are. I believe in the old saying "treat others the way you wish to be treated", but I also believe that we sho

Stormborn Child Omnius As tearful thunders onward sweep And down below us creatures creep As lightning flashes overhead Hush now dear – it's time for bed Neon mirrors lightning falls And Thunder cries his distant calls In fiery halls or concrete maze Raindrops form a blue-chill haze The storm now gathers in the clouds To coat the sky in dark black shrouds And lightning horses bred for war Charge the Earth's wet stony shore Night unfolds o'er shadow land Through the storm's eye's narrow band Cold gleaming stars shine on no-when On Daniel's empty lion den The storm now gathers in the wild Hush, my dear Stormborn child,

When I was seven, I tried to commit suicide. Everything was dark, except the floor, a long way beneath me. My feet dragged me towards the edge of the building. All that I knew was that it was windy, and getting windier by the second, my neck was quite itchy, and I was about to die. "Ring a ring a rosies, A pocket full of posies, "A-tishoo! A-tishoo!" We all fall down!" I was never really a child. I had a childhood, and I looked like a child, but inside I was more like a machine. I did what I was told to do: I functioned. "Survival is an instinct built into every animal on this planet: See prey, chase prey, pounce. Dinner. A cheetah woul

I was born as clean and bright as a new penny, my soul sparkling at the surface. But as the years go by, my spirit sinks further and further into hiding. No manner of buff and polish works to revive my shine as life begrimes me with the oil of too many hands.

Dear Moon I've been waiting for you to take a bite I've been waiting for you to feast on my flesh I've been waiting...for you to consume me But my life and soul You may feel a pinch of regret As you take in the aroma of my beating heart slipping through the teeth of my lungs The spit of my pulse The cancer in my veins Oh darling

The man was hanged on the willow tree On a sunny day in spring The birds sit on the branches and sing to each other And the flowers on the ground near by dance in the wind While a dead man rocks gently on the rope around his neck While the grass is green with a hint of yellow from the sun The ants are gathering food for winter And the scent of nature flows through the breeze, A breeze that brushes through hair of a human not there Not a cloud in the sky And what a beautiful sky with different shades of blue Yet no shade of blue matches the one on his face A grand day A perfect day But though guilty of having a part in the act T

A knife of light cuts into your eyeballs and you awake with no other notion than a profound knowing of your way, your direction and your mission when you set out on your horse no wind blows across your face because you have no face and the wind you have is the one you bring making your hair and your clothes swirl about you as though immersed in water you ride towards the glinting blade towards the crack in the horizon towards the seeping wound and the curling of the fried skin that is the sky your scales clank against your knee you were tired of raising them up there is no one to see here anyway and you realise you have never s