Fragments
I am like the wind I am like the rain My fingers Leave a mark, a stain A stamp of my own particular obscurity On everything I touch. And experience And bliss And oblivion And that divine spark My spirit so yearns for Must be left unmarred, Uncompromised, Untouched by me, Devoid of me, Of my own logic, Of my quality of being. They must be left Pure. Life itself Vicious life Is keeping me From tasting it From becoming part of it From savouring that fullness of colour And flavour I so long for... Vicious life Has confined me to a world Of strange fogs On this side of the locked gate Stones and water forever denied me Because I Do not know Myself.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026
I drifted gently Over infinite horizons And clear oceans of azure Lit by soft stars Devoid of contradiction Waves lapping on the shore Stirring my heart As it thumped in my chest Rising and falling Tide-like... Sensations materialising In it Like delicate specks of fragrant, glittering dust. Brushes against my cheek As I breathe in And the black seagulls fly away. I still carry in me A fragment, shimmering beneath the dust, Of eternal gold... It can be June in December, after all. Maybe.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026
(<em>Instrumental</em>)
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026
Yet longing for more Longing for a tool, a third eye To help you see through the infinitely intricate patterns The cunningly deceiving lines. Nothing truly well-known and familiar Down here Everything is confusion And muddled, self-unconscious Longings. Every time Every single time I try to make sense Of myself Of another I lose myself in a labyrinth In a maze of conflicting signs Pointing in all possible directions. Every time Every single time I try to follow any one of them I end up on a dead-end road In a dead arm Of the maze Unable to proceed any further Unsure how to go back Unwilling to take any of the other paths That beckon from my left From my right. I lose myself, each and every time.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026