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  • 2 weeks later...
10 hours ago, Мајор Гашпар said:

Da li je tu i Blagoje?

Nazalost nije.

4 hours ago, Sreta said:

Onogost Blagi?

Bio je pozvan, ali jos nije odgovarao. Moguce u buducnosti...

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Dead Sensations/// Sweet depression, whom I welcome hands open in embrace. Caress of darkness, in which I hide most intimate desire to escape. Relinquished responsibility Amidst depravity Turned to face the face of God. Petrified of destiny Jaded with iniquity yearning to erase it all. Aching coldness, which I cherish - - feeling present and alive. Faint despair, dead sensations, emptiness to which I strive.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Sacrificed...

(Of late) There's an abyss in your eyes unconnected to anything, or anyone Something fully of your own. Life Deprived Flesh is swollen All is nigh spent. That which lives seems to pray to die. Stepping into the shade there's no turning you now Ghosts of another dream Walk unstopping Will of steel. (Gaze unreal) A suicide constructed A thoughtful self-ruin To dust And to ashes Yours is almost done. Sacrificed we are to the Gods of tar.

 

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Is it a mirror, or a window into a different world...? 'Tis a shelter, or an escape from the inner torment you hold? Showing to a porcelain doll how to lose control How to crawl through this life of unfair strife. ... not to fake and what to take how not to break! Silent cries from weathered walls surround me as darkness falls cruelty of hard existence reflects inside it's warm embrace. Radiance from the angel's face - glimpse of hope in plain disaster subtle sighs from weathered house torture me as days go by. Reluctant tear clutching fast unto the purest of souls A young heart hiding pain within its budding rose.

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  • 2 weeks later...

(Antigua terra spiritus,
Mater terra adoremus.)

Here - among the mountains of the world
Here I suffer, yet I am not empty.

Here's the land inhabited by spirits
of times passed - full of meaning.

Here life is a marvelous secret,
A splendid vision of an infinite thought.

Here I hear whisper of the fathers
worshiping their Mother Earth.

Rest assured - man with no land is a leaf in the wind
And know this - exile is a faith worse than death.
With all my heart do I kiss cold stone
of these ruins - my cradle, my parent.

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  • 4 weeks later...
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People Are Lost An empire laid to waste In an infernal, demonic haste In progress, Cloned in dismay. A tsardom turned into ruin. People need People chose A tsardom turned into ruin. People destroy. Losing desire to live Equalized with a logarithm of fate Burnt by mechanical lust Indoctrinated by an artificial hate People create People create... People create People elate People are lost People are the host To a global imperial tumor.

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