"Greetings, from the depths", John repeats once more, and his glasses shine blue;
"Greetings, fellow sinners, fellow Lords of unseen realms, worlds, and treasures,
I stand now before you for my trial, my Earthly judgement, as my passion grew and grew,
My name is John, insignificant Doe, and on the firsthand let me count you pleasures -
- Mine.
I have grown with suffering, holding hands and sipping tea, and found refuge
In books, and neverending worlds, and means to hide my one true self from them, the ignorants,
Kindergarten, grade school, and then high school - my purpose was nothing huge.
And then I have grown with anger, wrath and despair - and saw my enemies as innocents.
- But why?
Later, I threw myself into virtual worlds, another door towards my own demise -
But which stood at the base of my very creation, along primal rage and pristine damnation,
And now I have broken the chains that kept my mind shut, gauged my own eyes,
And felt the horror of my soul as it was dripping away, in one new body, just for me to use, to exploit - to write and live, to be pure feeling, to be the wrath that was my friend. I have become, with horror I admit, a poet, a writer of my own, a man of thought, a student of Literature, of barely 22 years old, a man consumed by vices, an "insane, drug-driven, machine of thought", I revel with(in) my poetry and I relive through my prose. I am a man of every sort, a madman, a lunatic, a hopeless romantic and I write to shock, to crypt, all emotions known to man, I write for me that will become you and I cannot wait to decipher ourselves once again.
My name is John, a forever Doe, I now wait for the questions of my fellow men of Woe."
Note: I also draw, and catch glimpses of a graphite world, and sometimes take pictures, to cast away the very things one could call "near" in a place that won't be hit by doomsday.
"Greetings, fellow sinners, fellow Lords of unseen realms, worlds, and treasures,
I stand now before you for my trial, my Earthly judgement, as my passion grew and grew,
My name is John, insignificant Doe, and on the firsthand let me count you pleasures -
- Mine.
I have grown with suffering, holding hands and sipping tea, and found refuge
In books, and neverending worlds, and means to hide my one true self from them, the ignorants,
Kindergarten, grade school, and then high school - my purpose was nothing huge.
And then I have grown with anger, wrath and despair - and saw my enemies as innocents.
- But why?
Later, I threw myself into virtual worlds, another door towards my own demise -
But which stood at the base of my very creation, along primal rage and pristine damnation,
And now I have broken the chains that kept my mind shut, gauged my own eyes,
And felt the horror of my soul as it was dripping away, in one new body, just for me to use, to exploit - to write and live, to be pure feeling, to be the wrath that was my friend. I have become, with horror I admit, a poet, a writer of my own, a man of thought, a student of Literature, of barely 22 years old, a man consumed by vices, an "insane, drug-driven, machine of thought", I revel with(in) my poetry and I relive through my prose. I am a man of every sort, a madman, a lunatic, a hopeless romantic and I write to shock, to crypt, all emotions known to man, I write for me that will become you and I cannot wait to decipher ourselves once again.
My name is John, a forever Doe, I now wait for the questions of my fellow men of Woe."
Note: I also draw, and catch glimpses of a graphite world, and sometimes take pictures, to cast away the very things one could call "near" in a place that won't be hit by doomsday.
