Boiling Guts

Should’t estranged dreams invoke us into a world which never existed

A rapture to the order of the unknown

Yet this imposing dead tree i see now

Boiling my heart inside

Not of envy, not of fear

But still burning within

Its branches cutting deep

Into open and rotten wounds

A burst of words has come to oblivion

Strong doses of pain lingering into my lungs

I can no longer inhale

Chained with my own lament and lack of might



Here i remain alone

Here i remain alone

Would i ever want to meet God

Would i ever want to feel being near The source of divine light

The godly spirit

The godly word

The godly breath

The godly figure

Creator of souls i ache to reach

Creator of life and death

The lord of suffering

The lord of destruction

The lord of mercy

Here i am alone in sin

Here i plunge deeper and deeper

I am the swamp

I am the pitiful

I am the recluse


Here i am here within

I sit on my throne and see

I set on the east and fail

I rise on the west and burn

I am king here, i am king of Hell

No one has ever walked on my lands

For my lands are lakes of fire

For my lands are the dwelling of the dead

Still, i am a false king

I am the false prophet

Kiss my ring and bow down to me

See up in the sky and look for me

I have slept with the northern star

I have left the castle of eternity

I ll rise again

And this time with no mercy

When the day comes look for me

When your death awaits swallow me

When you lose your faith caress me

They are not screaming for they are content

They are not crying for they have seen the truth once before

Do not let me fool you

Kiss my ring and bow down to me

Know who is your master and give in to me

Give in to my lies

Give in to my fake promisses

Give in to my lust

Fail your true light

For i am your knight

A headless horseman is my vessel

I am falsehood

Know your pain for i am near

Know yourself for i am here

Count your days for i am who will bring you down

Down to the kingdom of Hell

Listen to me and follow

For i am the false prophet

I hear whispers now

Tell them, tell them

I walk upon the earth


Without Compass

Need you

Touch me

Pressure each finger and your palm on my male breast

Let me follow the invisible lines of your black and red finger nails
Press them again on me while going all over my arms

Let me hear your breathing while being so near to me

Caress me with your long hair while whispering my servitude to you

Let me dream, alone on my bed

I have lost my compass and only long for a faceless being

Who are you

No human identity behind the presence i wish to summon

Will i ever be able to live these moments

Moments in bed

Cool nights and cool early mornings

I wake up before you

Glorifying your enchanting sleeping beauty

I ll serve you all my life

Only fear will stop me

But if you discover my hidden buttons

I would sacrifice my life for you

For i am no thing


Fallen Angels

In a deserted state of consciousness

Only the soil prevails
No hills no trees
This is where the horizon starts
And where it ends

The dwellings of the dead
The land of despair
No one ever believed that there might be a change
This region is haunted by anguish
This is one of the seven districts of Hell

Yet there has been a happening
The wind has awaken and spoke

I, may be, have been charmed
This is the same kind of magic
Weaker may be but sharing the same roots
The wind has lost his mind indeed

When the air lusts for strangers
It becomes wind
Nay, not strangers, but may be fallen angels


During these nights the moon has been shining bright
Within the dark sky my mood took so many colors

On the borders of insanity i have fainted.
Within my smoke i have disappeared

Broken by the vice of shameful sin

New stains of submissive needs
Disposable fragments

Deluded by my own fantasies
I keep stepping on my integrity

I stare at my saint and envy his purity
I pray God and hope he ll forgive me

If he will not
I have no choice anyway

It does not make me less of a believer
For truth keeps shining from down the depths of the black sea
For it prevails off time and space
I have no regret but i wish i could have shown more strength

I carry two hearts but only one will remain
Either to Heaven or to Hell it will carry me

During these nights the moon has been shining bright within the dark sky whereas my mood took so many colors.

P.S.: If only i had saved my last entries on my wordpress. I guess i have lost around 10 notes or more since my facebook was disabled by a report.


Walking Towards One’s Death

There is nothing in the future
There is no tomorrow really
All is but a piling up of meaninglessness

The absurd is real.
The absurd is existence in itself

Many have written about happiness as a humane virtue
Most writers under the dark catalogue were known to not be miserable but rather successful pioneers of their life time
I am here to be a witness of the misery of being alive
This same statement is personal in itself indeed
For I have wandered on this land and wondered about social existence but I have found no remedy

I speak with the tongue of the romantic who have grown up only to believe that all these facades of reality are but in vain

Nothing to be extracted from this journey. I recall being a teen in middle school, I was asked to make a sentence in French so I told the teacher:

Since my childhood I used to spend a while from night time looking at the stars

So her cheeks turned red for her skin was white like snow then she replied with a tender smile,

Ah ! you are romantic …

I was so shy because I did not understand what it really meant but still I did not know what this word would bring me …

Nothing but suffering indeed

So I told myself that one’s only path is a journey towards death

This confession is ironic.

While conversations of strangers around me did not make any sense, they seem so focused and in agreement with each other about the importance of earthly matters. Why would someone make plans for his or her future for it means nothing really. Whether it would be a professional carrier or study. It just means nothing and does not need all the drama around it

I praised silence and despair
I stayed locked inside
For outside only brought me regret

Should I complain or not
Should I hold writers from the romantic era responsible of my own life
The only answer I hear whenever I go further in life, whenever I climb the steps of social/professional success

All of this is pointless

Walk towards your death son and pray your lord that he will not throw you to the eternal fire

For the judgment day is surely coming and you got nothing but your ego which will step on your soul and drive it straight down to Hell