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Tue April 21, 2026 17:58:15 [ Login ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, [3], 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 ]

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Date Posted: 01:38:51 03/08/03 Sat
Author: XitiZeN
Author Host/IP: ip68-100-220-56.nv.nv.cox.net / 68.100.220.56
Subject: revisiting one of my finest...consider this a lesson in the art of expression and storytelling through lyrics...*** Victim *** love is twisted, unreal, and some people go to the limits no man is allowed to pass...especially not with his blood...

“…A father, hollowed…A daughter, follows…”


Mentals, Mentals, explore my own cerebrum before I vent all
Smoking Menthols, contemplating ammonia before my mind invents walls
So I’ve lost my candle, and I stare alone into the darkness of damp halls
I relapse into familiar corners with no quarters to shape my body’s motives
Active, no, more like one lives, ignored in a silence pestilence of locusts
Frozen, there’s no methods for my mayhem, and no excuse to discuss this
I shiver at the realization that my life’s glimmer doesn’t even amount to simple
Trapped amidst a river, no paddle, only drizzle, that chills plasma and makes me quiver
I fear my own shadow, and run at sighting battles, like nothing ever mattered
Blood stained as fluids splatter, corrupted internally through devising laughter
My iris leaks dreams towards the screams in a heap of depressed means
Behind the scenes, I’m divided equally over oppression of a halo’s gleam
The peyote is making me bold, for I can’t sense directions past absorbing a needle
My wings scorched, I fall to the floor, ignored, now what do I uphold
Father to a hopeless goal, obsession over perfection within his daughter’s mold

“There is no reflection for those who are not there…”

Magnetic towards sounds, attracting blazed eyesights, red for white bounds
Prisms shed ground as fuels to the next round, twisted, corruptible, like within the beauty’s mounds
Blind metaphorically, ears lighting joint efforts to combine minds more than weed
Staring at me, imploringly, as if I gave a damn about the dope’s majority
Flowing thru opium, the only one knowing ‘em, visions burnt into my mentals, flowing rum
Drink away problems, forty-numb, while plasma slips slowly into my chest’s open drums
Failing under pressure, who says I’m better, more dismembered internally like remnants of a leper
“Rape” she screams as I ‘press her’ violating hopes for whim in exchange for sumthing fresher
And so there we lay, with blood’s spray seeping slowly from her violated gem in dismay
The name of the game, ‘domination on display’, all gave way the day I took her sanctity away…

“The only ones who understand the process of revenge are those who desire it their entire lives…”

Plagiarized minds, define ‘victimized’ when the defendant can’t even lift her eyes
Overtly Traumatized, throughout the lies, remains the simple truth, inside she dies
Staring idly at the rotating fan blades, fearing her provider like he were the King of Spades
The plasma cascades, reflecting light from decency’s gaze, wishing for tranquillity thru the rage
Grenades, the scathed scars mark her arms and torso from spots where pain once raised
The sins devout praise, blistering her skin in the blaze, she stares on, as past her body, his sheath once more grazed

“Hi, My Name is Amber Tiffany, this is my testimony…”

My enemies are the walls around me marked from the day my father entered me
Splintered me, verbally, then thru my virginity, followed by sodomy, happiness so hard to see
Ironically, I still loved as a part of me died away every time the bastard bothered me
“This is for the best, see?” he told me and forgave me for being the whore that he always thought I’d be
Father? My protector? No, simple villain who phrased me as ‘his best whore’
Well no more, I’m seething within my core, never again to be ignored, forlorn, as I sneak towards my parent’s torn bedroom door…

“Hello, 911, what seems to be the emergency?”
“Help Me Please, my wife’s bleeding internally, and staring into my daughters eyes, I believe she just murdered me…”

A single shot loads…followed by silence as the Colt hits the floor…

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