Gamma Knife

All else consumed by a holy cloud of forgetting Build this man by the way attained Go forth into the warm waters, brother, Happy is he, healthy is he among the pulled out and pulled apart. He sat with them, but not in vain. He sat among the ones long-dead, A feast, a store, a partner, love; Encourage him in all his ways To help him to forget the time of disengagement; Calling power down upon the hour, Scouring the sea for word and need, The broken healer, wounded lasts; Prays the skies to shut the rain and Makes them shower down again. A sign that he's there. A friend. Skilled to these degrees.

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 25, 2025

The world lies thousands of leagues beneath the Sea In the blackest abysses of gloom I can see it spew shades like the eruption of boils Like the stillbirths of saviours Like the orgasm of demons The shapes that surround me are void of coherence A body's last breath And a swirl in the smoke They stink of leprosy I call Thee forth into visible appearance I call Thee forth into visible appearance I call Thee forth into visible appearance Rape me with your words Scald me with your asylum eyes Nail me to a cross of sorrow Concealed in a Golgotha Trance Tetragrammaton Anaphaxeton Primeumaton AMN.

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 25, 2025

My grisaille is something sad to see For the shallow diver Behold the reckling in his room Coordinates shifted by a small degree But stained glass lanterns still abloom Nocturnal and blissom as ever Seeking the colored path I am walking At your bedtime I found myself floating Three thousand meters in the air Saw lightning coming Felt the rain kissing Laid down in a lake Heard the sky quivering Walked the summer sunset Seeing grey Hearing blue Did it alone all alone

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 25, 2025

“You’re all the fucking enemy, Another sign of the plague within” Voices from a mountain, peacock in the sky Under a lavender-imbrued Black vainglorious veil so visible Light my mirror with the tumbling glow Of your perfect bathic baetyl Ocellated god spoke to the crowd Through tremolo bells from a city window While from the hills out back, not quite as loud Came the horses’ more uneven tremolo Inside: mornings, writings, hope, Reproductions of the most famous Van Gogh Outside: only my scotoscope It was night, out here And always would be

Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 25, 2025

I cut my pain with the ghost of a knife in silence And nothing drained from my veins to the carpet Drops on the glass, I have nowhere to go today And the umbrella in miles of dust in the hallway Reading a book from the shelf (in miles of dust) From day until night Pale, glowing candles in a line like angels I read aloud the words that were whispered in my ear By the wind that rattles the windowpanes Words cannot express Nor shudders A phantom blade in the gathering shade A breeze in the hallway Tomorrow it may rain again I will not leave And nothing will be disturbed

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 25, 2025