You open the door, it is done.
The moon has now eclipsed the sun.
A lone figure stalks out of the night.
Will you Fight? Or flee out of sight?

Shadow creeping ever near.
The surrounding dark can taste youy fear.
Pairs of eyes peirce through the mist.
No more. You cant resist.

Running away from the lonely stranger.
Wanting to escape from the danger.
Putting a stop to it all.
You trip and fall.

But you dont hit the pavement.
Wondering why in bewilderment.
You fall into a sea of red and black.
You feel someone tapping on your back.
You turn around in a whirl.
Only to see a little girl.
You see her smirk and say in a harmonic voice
"In the land of the strange you make the choice"

Beauty, I forged a setting that illuminated the moon for me,
Spoke, "I can extinguish, for you dear."
That resplendence forged those words that arose with life.
Though denial was forced upon, by you.

Beauty, I sprawled beneath a shimmer-adorned night,
And resplendently shone my particular way.
Beauty, I ceased abreast of you, and surrendered my dying light,
You in turn, engulfed me in pure bliss.

I searched for times to come, the banished ones, (from me)
I almost ceased when I entered, the benevolence found,
Had been painted gray.
I doused my sight, and praised it one last time.
I wanted this anguish; I thrive in this purgatory state.

Beauty, a morning in pallor, asphyxiated when they found me
As I remained discarnate, I heard voices speak, in elegy.

"This beauty, this filigree calamity, created a boy so fair,
The enmity was clear, when excoriated by you"

Alas, like a mislaid child, I am forced to perambulate,
Through pantomimic acts of divine beauty.
Beauty, cease your sight and we'll dance
As for one final time, your effigy is eradicated.

I will cry for you,
Though through my anathema, will be the sole one.

walking through the halls, anger on his face, for what he's done is layed waste, to all the pepole who've done him wrong, killing them naturally, as if singing a song, as he procedes to take these lives, the guilt strikes his heart like a million knives, reality comes, as fast as sunrise. Fear then consumes him, for the matter at hand is dear, he than takes his own life, before shedding a tear

The night is young,
when true hate rings.
And heaven condemns the
song she sings. Her eyes ran dark,
an insatiable flood,
of sparkling evil, running
through her blood.
Poisoning empty,
cavernous holes
of the innocent hearts
of so many young souls.
Ivory skin,
ace of spades in her hair,
you're starting to see her face everywhere.
She's coming for you,
so don't cry, moan, or screech.
Just let her take you,
she has much to teach
Derangement of man
cannot compare
to her madness, a normal despair.
Searching, seeking,
the twist of the blade.
Don't try to stop her, your fate has
been made.
She's skipping, running, leaping fast
hoping night will make it last
but day is rising, stars are falling
don't worry she'll get us.

I stand silent,
I stand still,
A jar within my hand.
Waiting for the butterfly that soon will be mine. snatch it from the air,
And close the lid on top.
I run into the kitchen and put it on the counter top,
Watching as the little thing moves about, a flip and a flop.
Yet then something chills my back whispering, murmuring, in my ear,
All the time saying, "Nothing beautiful can grow here."
I shove it off and try to ignore the sound that always attacked before.
I walk upstairs and try to sleep,
yet it long to come but when it does,
It's so very deep.
The sunlight Dances upon my lashes telling me to wake,
Then I smile and run down to found my fatal mistake.
The butterfly, it's body, no longer in the air.
The soul had dashed off in the night, leaving the body there.
Then the sound ever creeping, silently starts me weeping,
whispering murmuring, speaking to me in fear,
" Nothing beautiful can grow here."
I go outside and take off the top,
the body, it would only drop,
to the ground and it would stay there,
No longer with the others in the air.
I sit in the darkness of the room,
That always seems to consume me with gloom.
I look through the boarded up windows, And watch as the butterflies float about.
I shut my arms and let my hand reach out for the sanity that is not there
all the time hearing, that whispering and jeering, venomous voice say in my ear,
saying, whispering, murmuring, "Nothing beautiful can grow here."

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