Ethereal Heresies
Ah, welcome LoSt SOuLs to the darkest corners of Goth-Lara's dementia. These are all original thoughts(unless stated otherwise) originating from my dreams, nightmares, absinthe illusions, or slipping grasp on sanity. Some pictures may take a few minutes to load, but if you're actually reading the poetry, it won't be a problem. Taste a bit of my darkness. Vivant, j'aimerais mieux inviter les corbeaux a saigner tous les boutsde ma carcasse immonde.
LES AVEUGLES
I
Her pale ivory skin folded
brown and
wilted
to black
until I
smelled her
dying flesh
in the
October Wind.
II
The first eruptions hit my throat
and I
glanced away
consumed by
delirious
mouthfuls of
salvation
III
Across the skin the fire
was dancing
and the smoke
playing games
with her
perfume twisting
into the clouds.