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Deviant for 11 Years
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Literature
Mediocracy
Bow down,don't look at broken dreams
Feel not,the haze of lifeless streams
Head down,you're hanging on the cross
Your light,is leaving you to rot
An open cradle
A rotten fable
There,there.
Do not beg for mercy.
You rule
by mediocracy.
Feel not,deny yourself again
Heal not,blame the other end
Bow down,your knees against the floor
You shall,realize how dim you are
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Literature
Walking the line
Wishing away insightful wounds
born within me.
Words and worlds inbound
were boiled to feed me.
A thousand miles to get there
A thousand years bound toghether
Tearing away at sound
all around me.
Screams and seems aloud
as all that lives in me.
A thousand years to get there
A thousand miles bound toghether.
A thousand lies to lie me there
A thousand tries to live forever
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Literature
Stellar change
Deserted expectations,
your life of hell.
Desperate sensations,
your angst of self.
Distorted illusions,
you bid farewell.
I made,i fed,
the life you sell.
This flowing blood
is just a bit
Of all the pain
that i see fit.
Behold!
I cast you into blackness.
The old
Shall be made new.
Seasons and nations
abide to fall.
Liaisons and false sons
thrive in thrall.
You gave me visions
of the greatest hall,
and now i burn you
for us all.
Your ending life
is just a gift
for all of us
sent adrift.
Behold!
I cast you into blackness.
The old
Shall be made new.
The time to leave
the hall has come.
Try to conceive
you call this home
no more.
Behold!
I cast you into blackness.
The old
Shall be made new.
I grieve to kill you,
but this is how the old is made new.
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Literature
Perpetual
Slaying the devassity
of death in purity,
assuring the survival
of a dead gesture
made of gravity.
Dancing to a lifetime
worth of screams,
bells that chime,
and pain bound together.
Bound to stray forever.
Screaming the vastity
of pain made fleash,
delighted by the sound
of superiority
made savagery.
Dying of an uncanny
blessing song
sung inside,
a swan song of mine.
Following my perpetual line.
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Literature
Eternity entry
I introduced myself with my
shadowed shy manners
I shook his hand in respect
for a work that i had done
giving in to evidence i can see that
i am eternal even if someone tries to bury me
and if i give in to myself i will
start over again
No denial ever kept me back
No denial ever saved a neck
I stepped out of the room
and it easily came to me
that eventually everyone's time would come
what never crossed my mind was
that all the clockwork had me in
that all the clockwork had me in
_
Not breathing for not living
not loving for not suffering
never really made me cry
never really stopped me from stopping by
i took some time this time
just in order to leave her at ease
i guess sometimes it has to be done
it's a nice ride and a neverending pride
to give someone something you never actually had
but that's not a choice you consciently make
cuz giving the living some rest is a task
that someone this dead has to take
_
It still strips me that i have to
put you down to rest so that you
can ease u
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Literature
Burnt letter
A little something i've burnt.
Pieces of how hurt
i could feel if i felt.
Words of what i've never dealt
with or heard,whatsoever,
less than a thousand times a day.
Tired images of what i never
had to say,
but chose to.
A speechless moment
taken to look at you,
that i didn't
actually notice.
Deep and deafeningly silent.
This fire in which the paper
will atone,at last,
makes it look paler
and vast,
in shape.
Will heat rape
these words i could have saved
for you?
Or will it make me write the enslaved
ideas on you to
blur you with love?
Earthly grounded,
planted,surrounded,
i wait for your answer
to a burnt letter,
an unmade question.
Yours sincerely,
your lover by the fire...
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Passion in Black by Demonofafall Passion in Black :icondemonofafall:Demonofafall 0 1
Literature
Still Death
Movements
in the shadows.
Nothing but silent
and consecutive shows
of undying power
to make expire.
Sequenced frames
of death beyond its name.
You hold reality
at its very end.
You bare the blade
of life unable to extend.
Paintings
out of lights.
Starving gestures
of might
never measured
in life,
shown strife
for blood.
Time is frozen
life is broken
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Literature
Symbiote
Entwined
with some fever
down my spine.
Something to decline,
pain's a deceiver.
Just as feeble
as i never hoped
to be again,
i rose to end
this eloped
and insane
mermaid song...
Almost hung
by the mob
that lives within me.
Constantly strung
out,trying to stop
these voices i failed to see.
The sound of the clutch
of conscience,
the eternal church
in absence
that kills the faith
required to believe
the taste
of relief
upon my chest.
I'm entwined
with something
designed
to sting
my tranquility.
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:icondemonofafall:Demonofafall 1 0
Literature
The presence of nothing
Overburdenned with nothingness.
The way i see it,
i carry all that's
evidently out of place,
in fainting little bits.
Apparently wounded,
bloodly secluded,
losing to unfelt pain.
Physically insane,
foreseeing a blind destiny.
Eyelids shutting,
unable to turn away.
Glance cutting,
unable to look away.
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Notes of distress by Demonofafall Notes of distress :icondemonofafall:Demonofafall 0 0
Literature
Vendetta
Anxious for news
of death
long awaited.
Frantic breath
(Hopefully)ceased to blow,
deceased alone.
I shake
just to think
the end is near
-the end is here!
Precious blood
in my wall,
spilled as mud
from the impure.
Determined to stall
and fall
for sure.
Gracious pain,
no grain
of mercy admitted.
Passionately comitted
to twisting
your every nerve,
and breaking your every bone.
Scream,atone.
Die alone.
Lifeless existance,
this rotting living
with no resistance.
All i bring
is a bit of justice
to the table.
Scream,unstable,
if you're able.
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Literature
Lied to again
Now i'm ready
to break the promise.
About to fail my word,
managing to miss the obvious.
Endemicly sickened
by the dim light
of your eyes,
while struck and bittered
by the sight
of my uninteresting demise.
Obliged to comply
with the movement
of a reluctant bullet
to my gloriously shallow head.
Forced to stay dead
when the world
hallows for my blood.
The notion of the hammerfall,
with time on my side.
My muscles heed the call,
but my heart won't hide.
Dominated by the thought
of agony exhaled,
demeinished and caught,
umbellicaly impaled.
Uncompromisingly
unable to lie,
Everyday affirming i'll die.
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:icondemonofafall:Demonofafall 2 9
Literature
Denied End Mission Statement
Letting go.
For good.
Cutting with the essential
that still plagues me.
Forgetting that perpetual
instinct that kills to be.
Fading details
as defiling fails,
defining hails
and hammering nails
into a coffin
that's not meant for me.
Feeling almost too heavy,
cunning stunt to stand,
closing in to stare.
Lowering hand,
refusing care.
Being fair
in my judgement,
chasing away enlightenment,
in the arms of lunacy.
Pledging my one true love,
the undying hell
to which i drove
myself.
Having my last
cup of time gone past
my skin.
Taking my last sip
of innocent blood with my kin.
Or so i thought.
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Literature
Gospel
I've come to forgive
it's hollow deeds
of fleash,
forced to conceive
a need to be.
It's crudeless cries
slash the silence
i killed to achieve.
It tries
to make believe
that lies
are born to die,
when i know
that above all
they outlive the creator himself.
May it burn in fire
May it rot in hell
It tries to make believe
it won't die in vain
it kills to achieve
me,yet it knows not the pain.
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:icondemonofafall:Demonofafall 1 1
Literature
Products of alienation
Stuck to the stench
Of modern age's stress.
i clench
my fist and eyes
to scream less
these lies
of comfort and disregard.
I guess
it makes me this prayer
unattended to.
The hater
who,
sooner or later,
eventually loves you.
I will untie my vision
off of your eyes,
so that my desire
for hire
finally sighes,
in a moment of cynical incantation.
Your world,
much like my own's contemplation,
carelessly would
crumble for a promess
of gentle retirement.
Free of this unpleasant need
to breathe
and feed.
Free to stretch
this uncanny wish to fetch,
somewhere,
my freedom to think,
die and do,as i see fit.
And craft it all,
i shall.
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deviantID

Demonofafall
Daniel
Artist | Literature
Portugal
Current Residence: Lisboa
deviantWEAR sizing preference: Large
Favourite genre of music: Metal
Operating System: Windows XP
MP3 player of choice: Winamp
Wallpaper of choice: Opeth's big "O"
Skin of choice: Blade
Favourite cartoon character: Hobbes
Personal Quote: We're eternities away from oblivion
Interests
That's it.Creativity,flourishing art within my hands and veins and no time.For the sake of creation (quality is not discussable here :p),i'm counting the days 'till my vacations come.Some time to create and please myself.Meanwhile,the greatest of the greatest are back.Opeth are out and about and the new stuff is awestriking,to say the least."The Lotus Eater" is nothing less than astonashing.3rd or 5th June,or whatever,and there i am,waiting at the gates to buy "Watershed",craving for what i'm sure to get:more of what has been done,and things never seen before.Just like those blastbeats with clean vocals...

Cheers!
  • Listening to: The Lotus Eater - Opeth
  • Reading: Tom Bombadil, J.R.R. Tolkien
  • Watching: Rob de Niro Movies
  • Playing: Stuff
  • Eating: Sandwiches
  • Drinking: Iced Tea

Comments


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:iconthy-serpents-embrace:
thy-serpents-embrace Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2006
Damn...Thats deep. I've never really thought of anything that way before. Interesting
Reply
:icondemonofafall:
Demonofafall Featured By Owner Jul 2, 2006   Writer
That's the problem with me.I have too much time to think about things,and i actually think!looool...:P
Reply
:iconthy-serpents-embrace:
Im having some difficulties with coming up with something to write also. Its like when you need to sneeze and you can feel it coming...but you can't. :sneeze: Thats how I feel about my attempt to write...I know I have the ideas and inspiration...but the words won't come out. Okay, my sneezing simile was a lame and retarded attempt to get you to smile, I must confess :blush: Forgive me. I hope I can crack a better joke next time.
Reply
:icondemonofafall:
Demonofafall Featured By Owner Jun 16, 2006   Writer
It's not such a bad joke...and it's not far from what i'd use.I guess that makes me a little lame,too:P...sometimes i don't quite know:inspiration follows a need to cry,a need to come to terms,a need to...do something,rather than just roaming mindlessly through the places and non-places in which my life takes place.And my boat journeys through the tejo river are the best for it:quiet and lonely,smeered and squeezed into some corner of the boat for about 20 minutes...about enough time for at least half a poem,which means a whole poem on the next ride.But this happens in seasons.I wish i could write equaly everyday,but then again it's good that i don't.It means i'm balanced,but not monotonous...you are forgiven,m'am:)
Reply
:iconkaimiirah:
kaimiirah Featured By Owner Jun 15, 2006  Hobbyist General Artist
es uma doida!
Reply
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