The Mind's Asylum by Rave (old books to read txt) 📕

Circle in the Sky

The circle shows no distant irresolute,
An emblem of all that is absolute.

The darkness wavers in its light,
It stops the fear, begins the night.

A howl, a shriek, a pitied cry,
All behold a fruitful lie.

For in her light you are alone,
Yet, you are so very close to home.

Daybreak

Into the mist, sheltered by snow,
The black birds flutter, the last caw of a crow.

The water becomes shallow, too light for the dark,
A soft sound, louder, the sounds of a lark.

Down into the valley the light climbs high,
The darkness fades shades of orange light the sky.

In the forest the light’s pace speeds,
Chasing up leaves and trees.

On the horizon, it is quick to rise,
Chasing the dark, fears, and lies.

Clouds glow filled with time,
Forever hiding the day’s fatal crime.

Whisper

Dead wood speaks, careful gaze waits,
Ignoring the speed, the fast moving gaits.

Into the darkness, a lie screams out,
Corrupting the calm, the world drenched in doubt.
The gait speeds on as if plagued no more,
The wind blows through amplifying the gore.

The dead wood gives way, just like the screams,
Then the day awakens, haunted by whispering dreams.

Cyanide

Grabbing hold of yourself you find you are lost,
They sold you and broke you for no simple cost.

What is the cost of a life then? Has it no price?
You fall to the ground, dead and cold like ice.

Then what did you live for? Why must good men die?
Erase your whole past? Sure, what’s another lie?

Gone for but a day and the pain never fades,
Lost in their lies, death by their blades.

How could you have believed them? Why do you still?
Was it the pain you already felt? Or was it just the thrill?

Void In Time

A doorway to eternal life, like a dream,
You come so close, I rip open the seam.
Time then drifts and vanishes in space.
Come with me to this vacant place.

For on the other side of the door,
They keep screaming for more!
For is life not filled with empty portals?
Where demons laugh at us for being mortals.

Sovereign Of Lies

Tonight they kill us.
We fight so hard for freedom.
Killing our brothers.

Lady in Black

A voice in my ear, a tingle down my spine,
A tear down my cheek, the cruel thorn of a vine.

A cold barren winter, no jacket to wear,
Is black but a symbol, or a vanity affair?

Midnight Moonlight Ballet

They twirled faster than the wind in their hair,
In dizzying circles, here and there.
Amazing in the moonlight, at midnight within the streets
To determined by laws to hear the beats.
They drove on and on, leaping from every side
The pain was forgotten, in the length of their stride
Careless and whimsical, a sight to behold
Between their fame and fortune they truly were sold.
Biting at their heels in sure display for them
The demons and their leader, the dancers and their sin.
Chains would show the truth was there, and forever would it be.
The demons and their dancing slaves, captured by the sea.

The Rungs

She sat there on the sidewalk singing her sweet suicide song,
Because he never told her, he loved her all along.

He'd stepped under the ladder, skipped every rung.
Careless waiting, thinking they were much too young.

She spun and she twirled, sung out loud but no one heard.
How wasted the time she'd spent longing for his word.

Too much time was spent, and time began to die.
She didn't bother asking, and he never had to lie.

She just sat there on the side walk singing her bitter lullaby,
As men and women, equal, held hands and passed her by.

The Quarrel

Today we are cold.
Tomorrow who really knows?
What's nature thinking?

The Stitch Work Doll

Bounded up in folds, then found in little pieces.
Awaiting what dawn shall hold.
Yet the dawn always ceases.
Once more they shall scold.
The stitch work doll.

She climbs into the casket, but was pulled out by a thimble.
A mix of pain and pleasure.
Left scarred with but a symbol.
Quietly they measure.
The stitch work doll.

Slowly away she'll try to clamber, but they stick the needle through.
So cold a thought, impending death.
Pieces thrown and askew.
They make her breath her last breath.
The stitch work doll.

Sewn with sanity but stuffed with madness.
Curiosity vanquishing all hope.
Meant for someone to obsess.
They package her with a noose tied rope.
The stitch work doll.

Soon left and dismantled, such an old toy.
New ones replace her.
All that's left, experiments by a boy.
No love, she cannot not concur.
The stitch work doll.

This is the end, if were there a start at all.
Oh the end, the end.
Of the stitch work doll.

.Ssenkrad eht ,luos ym

Tortured souls and falling blood.
War in rain, bodies slayed in mud.
Sacred tower, core of hate.
Death bound by their fate.

Caressing demons, witch's name.
Torn by envy, raised in flame.
Corruption burning, vanquish thy wills.
True loves reality, vengeance fulfills.

Chains through skin, hook protrudes.
Grapple through heart, hell concludes.
No eyes to see, picked out by crows.
No names, only what the victim knows.

Desperate gasping, singed skin.
Whip lashings, anger within.
Circling deception, accredited damnation.
Unannounced in circulation.

Bodies lying in the cathedrals of sin.
Suffering in masses of painful chagrin.
Told stories there of, the end of their days.
Frozen by fear, but set loose and ablaze.

Precision is lost, in inordinate application.
The doctor is lying, death by temptation.
Locked away in your tower, oh beauty of consequence.
For their bodies sleep, never seen, never since.

My Own Little Wonderland

You can hear the dripping, the blood down your spine.
The monsters sucking the marrow from your bones.
Tonight the darkness will dine.
Painted walls, each in a different red tone.

Always dark, no light to guide.
Oceans of blood.
Everyone's died.

There is no tomorrow only a dead-beat yesterday.
No other days go by,
It's always bloody Monday.

The hooks hang on the walls displaying rotten meat.
But a closer look reveals,
Fingers, hair and feet.

The splatter is sporadic, no little drop in place.
The walls ooze with other liquids
Dripping on your face.

Spines are drug along the floor, raking through the gore,
A butcher is always on hand,
Soon the blood will pour.

All the residence are all here to stay.
Forever, until the bags are taken.
Please be on your way.
For the residents are forsaken.

Welcome to my own little wonderland,
We provide all you need.
Better watch out.
It’s almost time to feed.

If They Came For You

When they came, what was left?
A heart left in a home.
Broken and disheveled.
Now cold and all alone.
We try and we remember,
but memories always fade.
You can circle each person,
Change history, and persuade.
But what is the difference here?
They stand in our street,
America was always free of fear.
And free of marching feet

When they came what was left?
No one in a home.
They'd taken them all away from here,
Now they're all alone.
The ones that survived, they left that place.
No longer could they stay,
They hid in fear and changed their names,
They barely got away.

When they came what was left?
Shattered glass and an empty home.
They took too much, and left no more
A heart now all alone.
Will we ever remember them.
Do we truly care?
How can you say you sympathize.
If you were never there.

Oh! The Blood-Sucking Vampires!

Into the night, hunting prey with ease,
You hear a quiet sound making your whole being freeze.

They come forth from the rooftops, the darkness, the trees,
A simple echoing laugh’s location, hidden by the breeze.

They circle as if flying, if flying they do detail,
For in this darkened alleyway, it’s impossible to tell.

They seem to toy and play with you, midnight drawing near.
They just won’t stay away from you, they are feeding off your fear.

It seemed like for hours they circled, and forever you may wait.
Vampires have eternity and you have such less a rate.

For now they seemed to stop in their circle and glare straight down,
For another in the shadows seemed to spin them all around.

In his hand he holds a gun, a weapon to be in vain,
Yet you do not know the number of the demons he has slain.

In the city alleyway, the world just seems to whirl,
No animal, may he be man or beast shall touch this human girl.

And as the hunter sheaths his weapons and sits down by your side.
You turn to him, with large, white fangs, a vampire’s widowed bride.

The Last World

Legend spites, mystery content
Forever still ocean
Debating consent

Forming in days
By the sun
The night behaves

No creature stirs
Below the sky
All visions become blurs.

For what is the earth,
But an empty case
That simply needs rebirth.

Glacial Tangibility

You can’t be cold in summer they say, but what is cold to them?
They have not felt the ecstasy of being too bitter to condemn.
They call me like a demon, too inordinate to live.
How could they ever understand the reason I shall give?
For cold is but a feeling they say, so why must it give me chills?
For this freedom I must use what little I have skills.
Don’t touch me with your cold, dead hands so I may do it on my own.
I do not need the demons help, I’ll shiver all alone.
You can not fix me now, I’m dead I’ve wandered too far to be saved.
So now on my knees, as blessed are these, for the road that can’t be braved.
I’ve wandered too far from existence, wandered too far for a choice.
I’ve taken the path of least resistance, and ignored the echoing voice.
But lies are only just so deep, and tales are just so wide.
So I’ll pick them from the giant trees, and say to the doctor I tried.
He will simply tell me that the cold, is my heart that desires mending.
I’ve come, I’ve wandered, I’ve lived too long for this unspoken ending.

Black Roses Aren’t Real

Darkness dwells as night reveals,
Quiet whispers, enlighten their meals.

Silence is never silence if silence is spoken,
Surreptitious in riddles never broken.

Covert they seem but too much is exposed,
The mannequins are planted, purged, and posed.

Whispers in the night fall on faint of