From the womb of fire and suffering we are reborn, and emerge from triple darkness purified by pain.
Tag: Pain
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Pain rains from the eyes of the afflicted
Suffering knows no bounds in the void
The black hole draws in and slowly consumes
Cries and wailing reverberate in echoes of torment
Who will record the chronicles of the chronically ill?
Desolation takes hold and stifles unmercifully
The dead lie in state but their souls restlessly move
Sudden darkness covers all as the last rose is thrown
Under the black lace veil the last tears are shed for the unknown
The crow looks on from the shadows with piercing eyes
The rejected and desolate gather so heaven will hear their cries
They are counted in the hundreds of millions with sodden eyes
In G minor Devil’s Trill Sonata is played
It is the dawning of the sun that they eagerly await
In the sufferer’s role call one by one they say their names. -
The tormented wail.
Heavy tears of agony
Fall beneath the black veil.
The dead is carried
By horse and carriage.
A trail of sorrow follows
Behind in silent march.
The dark crow watches
From a distant perch.
Bitter cold wears
On the frailty of the old;
Their steps are slow,
And measured.
The hard frozen earth awaits.
As the lowering begins,
Red roses are thrown
From frail hands
With black gloves.
Freezing winds blow;
With tears and a final stare,
Cold and ashen faces
Slowly disappear. -
“You should smile more” a stranger says; yet she dies on the inside.
She stares at him as if she is looking through a glass pane.
In her eyes are years of torment and unceasing rain.
Silence is all she can muster; he is shaken as he looks upon her. -
The gangrenous stench of torment scorches the nostrils
The rotten carcasses of many souls lie
The ghastly scars of cirrhosis are evident to horrified eyes
Under a black moon the fires of agony viciously consume
They have been rejected by blood but cry no more
Leprous outcasts and wanderers with no home they are
They walk the road of hell in hopes of reaching heaven’s door
Injured souls seek to repair themselves;
The hideous scarring causes the earth to turn away and weep
The oceans well up with rising tides
Peace and a haven is unceasingly sought with tears and bloodshot eyes. -
In that moment she was set free,
And shed tears of joy in quiet peace.
She inhaled deeply the memories of agony
And with eyes of fire,
Exhaled agony in her final release.Antonio Vivaldi: Nisi Dominus, RV 608. No.4
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In darkness we walk; we are survivors of the night. The dark raven still flies; we fear no fright. In suffering we have been tried; blood and fierceness in our eyes. Our seasons of weeping have strengthened us; hard resolve is in our cries. Let now all in our congregation in unison rise. Let the earth’s soil remember the tears of our torment; let the four walls echo the whispers of our days and nights of agony. We have been made strong in our endless affliction; we present the dreadful scars of trauma, and the world is aghast. We have been rejected and unloved even by our own fathers; our anguish and misery is the pain of our mothers. We live in darkness like vampires; our hands outstretched longing for the sunshine, but seemingly rejected by the light. The dilation in our eyes tell the tale of our secluded existence. We are but mortals with hearts full of love and pain. Our forecast are grey skies and eternal rain. We swear now an eternal oath, that the traumas of our childhood eternally sleep and shall never rise again.
Intimate Compositions 