Ungregariousoddity

Sterily, he waits, heaving with disinterest as she lies, in the bed he put her in, as heartily she dies. Lazily he sighs, half-heartedly cries I love you, as surgeons in jungles of wire, bid her love life adieu. For they cannot fix, the labours of distrust and hate nor fill his silhouette shaped hole, gaping in her fate. His constant banging of his nails in her cavity had smashed through her foundations into depravity. All she asked of him, one summer on a whim, was a slice, a piece of love, adoration, or hope at any price. And he gladly gave it to her, gave it to her good, and she accepted madly like any naive should. 'Twas befor

White like his Strauss sheet, his horn and he walk into the limelight. Horn concerto in E flat ; his coppered hair is tonight's accompaniment. 0-60, he blasts a bewildered audience with his brash brass brilliance. With a rump and a tump, he runs excitedly with his keys, past lackluster learners as they polish their practised perfection, yawning at the finish line as they toy curled tresses with a bow. At his last croak, French sympathiser folk roar with resonant cheer as he lifts the father Fran's son to the skies, to new octave heights. With one final tap, he sounds to a silence; the judges, deaf, award nada. But his heavenly harmon

Haplessly helpless half-baked brows frame the inked frown, set on a filthy groundsheet of spotted, eroded skin. Dulled grey eyes peek, slowly peer from sobbing sockets at mittened children pointing boney mini fingers in jubiliation in her direction as she sprawls, stomach spilling onto the pavement. Lard ladled locks stick to her lips like flour to a greased potted pan as sinister sprogs count one, two, three bags full of blacked-out eyes, stitched with a thread of sullen silver. The crowds begin to gather to this attraction, the she-beast, shielded in a disguise of cotton shroud petals. Lifting her protective layer, boys guffaw, mo

Embedded in newly dugged earth, a frail skeleton oversees vicious contempt and emotional sores. Ripped from rugged chest, blackened ribs house encrusted mould milking starved rats nurturement and greed, where once stability stood, remnants of inmangeable vessels take form restricting the soul to a withered heap. Weathered away, tactful flesh holds tightly to life, begging pitifully to the besotted messiah who in fortuna ignores such pleads.

I remain caught in vortexes of emotion; entwined purely in satisfaction, harshly discriminating those in ranks below; ignorant of mangled tombs where decaying flesh of children of the light is feasted a divide in molluscs and hounds, their discoloured dents force smiles of contempt as their souls plunge to the River Styx. Picnicking on luxury treats, pleasure binds my every step, preventing responses to half-hearted prayers. I spectate to the oceans azure, waiting attensively for disastrous suspense as lower class tramps abandoned ashore consume remants of their upper gut, lapping sweat from dehydrated pores, fall captive to inte

No more do tales of woe convey concealed thoughts; amour takes hold, replenishing the uppermost will of drawing repeated breaths. Tangeant beauty appears before me; the warm radiance of caramalised rays colour the tranquille scene, whilst the parakletos keep guard, breathing smiles of the ambient moon, as they depart for mortal sleep. Created of cherished thoughts, similiar to that of woven patch work, fondest memories with their loved ones recur. Distinguished features of their porcelain visages, cannot be expressed simply in mortal terms. Their conspicious beauty, with honey dew locks and organs of sight plentiful of aquamarine la

Ill-judged by those ignorant, striving for subsistence, almost skeletal in appearance, she succumbs to immorality. With uppermost affection, she ceases not to waste the pityful crumbs earned, forced to watch those gaping faces of her own, they surrender willingly to mortem. Driven not to sanity, mindless fools welcome an entourage with diablo. The cost for a single morsel, fulfilling deeds of the truly wicked. Unearthed, they pilfer from the motionless, only the ghoulful sight discourages them further from stealing away insect-ridden, woven mass. Open to a world of means-a-plenty, aristocratic sobs resound now vacant mausoleums, not fr

No longer do I hold back or banish heart felt emotion, in hours of wake,my thoughts recall to my heart's beckoning, of spent times embracing in bleak shadows, gazing with uppermost lust. Beside, he lays, with consolation and care comforting indepth fears. I yearn to press these levres rouges to his, to feel the vibrant amour shared alike, consume the darkness espiated by undeserved sin. Spare seconds more, please kind sir, allow the cold visage to sense his desired touch. Permit these youthful minds to reach to his consistent warmth and gladly abide til the aorta falls to sleep eternal.

The realms of death await; amongst disheartened crowds, I clearly stand, with impatience of better to come. No frowns line my weary face; I clasp mortem freely, yearning for eternal sleep. As the kin of the oak perish and fall, lining battered lands, so do I. The foliage that was once my source of lungful breath values little. Having fought continually against frequenting struggles, I concede these arms and allow the fatigued flesh to encase and wither to the terrain of battle. Aspirations for exterior refuge have long routed my thoughts; I stumble and curse, numb, I hasten to the toll of the sadistic bells. Fatality pleas, how can

Warm pride develops in young hearts as march ye in angered fight, rifles arch on bracken backs, preying their source of destruction. Rewounded bullets sharpen the air, scents of gunfire and blood linger now in tarnished minds, scenes of the wounded, they stumble to deathly ground, waiting agonisingly for uncalled for darkness. Ancient, soldiers in conflict forget the ardent faith that once dwelled; looking to cloudy forecasts, God remains oblivious.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all 'cross the web All the users were clicking, the big names and the plebs MySpace was decked out in baubles and candles And each tired nickname 'twas a new festive handle As children by now we'd be snuggled in bed But we now stay online and leave comments instead Farmville and Farm Town have settled their spat And holly and ivy surround every Lolcat YouTube had new vlogs; a thousand carol singers And on Dailybooth everyone's nice to the mingers On 4chan, the people are friendly tonight And LiveJournal emos see things looking bright A long time ago we believed in old Santa But now we recited

Echoes deficient tremble across her Marlboro burnt lips. I'm sure she's muttering something intelligible, But the words barely waft into my senses as My stomach mocks sudden pangs of intuition Underneath this dusky sky And the gray salt-caked road I drive us on turns into a clamor of nickels Where Yellow and White clash but never cross. This is where the silver was worn away. This very journey stained the shiny soul sublime into lives where snow cover mountains never breathed She hardly woke up before the haze set in She's three maybe four, They gasp, one no more Her tantrum now an outline of where she once inhabited A da