Worship

Be frank and brazen in Thine worship

Let neither culture nor convention of the masses suppress thee…

In Between

Between a dark scythe and a reddish knife, I am lost 

In a plethora of choices, vice and lust

Between the cold ravines of death and the sizzling heat of rape

Caught in between, in limbo, in perpetual edge

Lost in darkness and dark light abound

Lost in the Moment V

It was a dark, damp night. One can still recall the phosphorous air, the charcoal black gorge walls.

One can also recall the look of fear and desperation from one’s father, falling into the cold, silent chasm, of red rivers of embers below. 

Was it an omen, a warning from the infernal dimensions, something like three hits and you’re out ? Or was it three strikes and you’re out?

Combined

Fear don’t sell.

Hate don’t sell. 

Peace don’t sell. 

Happiness don’t sell. 

Only a balanced combination, a devious mix, sells.

Hail the mighty combiner.

The adept, the beloved enslaver.

Just a Thought

What do you think about the wedding?

It’s okay. 

You like the bride? She really shines doesn’t she?

Much shinier if she was skinless I think.

Sounds like an idea.

No worries. I’ll get the knives.