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| Topic: DeathsTreaty Home of Dark Pain and Suffering | |
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Come and Join the Dark sufferage of human kind and laugh at the pittiful ones and Enjoy a bottle of Wine most would die from with only a small consumption
or Come Join the Pain or come to ease those who feel on the edge and see life as nothing special anymore Speak with a Heart and use words thought by your mind and speak not with your mouth alone |
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Come and Join the Dark sufferage of human kind and laugh at the pittiful ones and Enjoy a bottle of Wine most would die from with only a small consumption or Come Join the Pain or come to ease those who feel on the edge and see life as nothing special anymore Speak with a Heart and use words thought by your mind and speak not with your mouth alone 
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If I had one of those huge lighters people use at concerts, Id light one up now..... 
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not wine, vodka
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Salute
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Wakka wakka, wheres my duck?
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Tequila cheers
Did someone mention pain 
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Wakka wakka, wheres my duck?
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Hello Everyone ^^
Post of the DArkness and dont be afraid to Hold back Have fun with it and let the Blood be felt by your words ^^ |
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there is my favorite person.(((death)))
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oh yes, there will be words,
no forget that , there will be vodka |
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hey stranger
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Hello Silnt ^^
I didnt know I was your favorite person.... I dont really approve of Drinking, but it does attract more attention... |
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ive been waiting for my damn coffee for nearly 30 minutes,WHERE IS IT??!!
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hey stranger
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Here ya go Treaty,
Absolution awaits underlying pangs of fear and doubt. (Hope for what might be and what never will.) Livid leprous seething mental scars leek slightly out missing broken ears… Faces faced with their facades fracture forcibly (while withered souls wheeze weakly beneath their own weight) …Hands hand you a helping hand only to hold it over you while you struggle up to thank them… Massive mites of great might break weakly upon the jagged pillars of stone keeping our feet from drowning in self piteous pestilent piousness… Leaving those broken behind to wither and lie at our feet frantically fricasseeing blistered cracked and mottled skin without eyes we look, filled with vehement vicarious viciousness our teeth tear tenuously at our masks, trying ineptly infuriatingly incase inklings of inferiority invade our self-righteousness as we slide our feted foot atop each others head trying to escape the heated self-drowning, watching those suffering around us with vile contempt while sipping blood laden tropical drinks from skulls (with little pink umbrellas in them), we laugh callously at our own suffering in others eyes while holding the key beside their faces attempting to rationalize in our own sick fantasies how they’re feeling while downtrodden and scraping to breathe, sick pustules bubble with human indifference as we sink further toward what we once built ourselves to stand atop, no, our feet sink faster with each passing day and when the sirens song finally calls us to our own self fulfilling prophecy the pain and regret we will perfectly in absolution upon the mottled skin faces we tore from our own bones, look deep into your soul and see what vile contemptible being lives within our scars and eyes… |
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A Holding to something Long Dead rots the mind of its creativity and leave the Body sore and filled with marks that read of no sense
Stare with one eye and chew on the other Lick your lips and taste the blood Make a Fist as you Take ones head to smash it |
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Here ya go Treaty, Absolution awaits underlying pangs of fear and doubt. (Hope for what might be and what never will.) Livid leprous seething mental scars leek slightly out missing broken ears… Faces faced with their facades fracture forcibly (while withered souls wheeze weakly beneath their own weight) …Hands hand you a helping hand only to hold it over you while you struggle up to thank them… Massive mites of great might break weakly upon the jagged pillars of stone keeping our feet from drowning in self piteous pestilent piousness… Leaving those broken behind to wither and lie at our feet frantically fricasseeing blistered cracked and mottled skin without eyes we look, filled with vehement vicarious viciousness our teeth tear tenuously at our masks, trying ineptly infuriatingly incase inklings of inferiority invade our self-righteousness as we slide our feted foot atop each others head trying to escape the heated self-drowning, watching those suffering around us with vile contempt while sipping blood laden tropical drinks from skulls (with little pink umbrellas in them), we laugh callously at our own suffering in others eyes while holding the key beside their faces attempting to rationalize in our own sick fantasies how they’re feeling while downtrodden and scraping to breathe, sick pustules bubble with human indifference as we sink further toward what we once built ourselves to stand atop, no, our feet sink faster with each passing day and when the sirens song finally calls us to our own self fulfilling prophecy the pain and regret we will perfectly in absolution upon the mottled skin faces we tore from our own bones, look deep into your soul and see what vile contemptible being lives within our scars and eyes… wow..that's worthy of dark
mine is much...less... consumed by silence nails blood upon the stones moonlight falling death sits waiting on the fated dawn |
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Runpenzo?
Maybe we should teach of the "Dark Arts" What do you think? |
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A Holding to something Long Dead rots the mind of its creativity and leave the Body sore and filled with marks that read of no sense Stare with one eye and chew on the other Lick your lips and taste the blood Make a Fist as you Take ones head to smash it |
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