What's Chalk... What's Not... I

The piano played the guitar,

      As a prayer  upon vocal hybrid mistaken victim identity chords, Hiding behind time chalk consuming threats no officer desired to relive nor witness, Breath drained until her very last gasp under a post script transcribed diction of events irrelevant to what actually happened: She's recorded as screaming in silence into the aftermath's noose or so the report reads...

In lieu of,
Hiding behind comfort,
As those we love,

White Venom Widow

Because I never forget

Everyone has an imprint, a legacy

Thriving in the depths of my memory

On a wall & seemingly invisible,

      Hiding in the closet out of view, Leeching nothing but life from a derelict hope unwanted few, Lost beyond attempt of being renewed, But the Spyder ever deadly will not unto darkness submit, Despite the appearance of a charred black obsidian spite never broke its tomb, This widow will soon be as sinister as new, Residing underneath the wings of your sheets, Gliding as an angelic vampire beneath the sheets as we sleep... Just out of view of the silent funeral for us all.

In lieu of,
The inevitable
XxX

Whatever comes to pass

I still miss you friend! x

The 'White' One...

Jesus rarely wept,

     Like Cthulhu's multiple obsidian ink clouds of deteriorating rain, Intolerantly falling as a hymn for the karma missing upon those who strive by prayer ever vigilant in their pacivity desiring to fly... But unwilling to lift a make illegitimate belief wish to serve anything other than a warrant for their invisible prejudice.

In lieu of our,

Participation in...

Persistent itch,

     Unmeant to scratch, At the skin's annotations simple nothings are crawling but the imagination's afflicted capacity, Mediocracy is the web in which we live. A fundamental alignment of wingless subservience to vampire ruling in the autocratic dark, Their mere echoes afflict our unmistakably bowed by the duress of homage to an unforgivable silent G-d; Bones, By which we make our discouraged means to unfortunately live... A point of infinite view to which we prescribe.

In lieu of...
Participating in: 

White widow,

      Multiple strain of existences lost to the naked view of a single un-imaginary eyed dredge male spider's reflected masculinities in a mentally clairvoyant ill broken by a remnant's holocaust future dark choices... The mirror's drowning hope for anything better than a quarantined lifetime image; This is... Until the revolution or death amidst her drowning.

      Will she devour the hybrid false tangent of hope threaded with death's typical inhumane slut labelled in darkness behind her back: Secret demon grovelling for another infatuated single instance of deviancy at her feet... Or submit endlessly to that which consumes: The desire to strive above: To fight, The definition by which stabilises all yet unto each their own infinite structure of woes is given.

In lieu of...
Men crawling into caves,
Forever.

Too escape the fate...

     Unwholesome black unlight hell landscape late to be let in... The violence has suffocated wrung the life from under your fallen skin, Whatever there was in resistance to win; is but the definition of lost in death.

In lieu of...
Discovery a new Heaven & a new G-d.

Ill alignment,

     Happy inside the church as long as G-d invisibly appears to allow another week's escape, This is the standard first deadly ignorant world dream; No virgins after the terror, There's no need in the slumbering as the world dies west, We're fragile and exhausted as a mob, Defiant in the face of nothing but equality for that which we've yet to define, Especially the gender epidemic or was it race... Who cares; the TV's on anyway...!

In lieu of our investigations,
After the screen's eternally black!