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Home Is Where Death Is

Deadness arises from the smothering screams of sorrow. 
Divulge, the stream of blood, drink from its mouth. 
I am an arrow, piercing your heart, six gods and a curse. 
Blasphemous my lambs, behold the mark of my saviour.
Leaving my thoughts, far from paradise.
The masses are losing life, a woeful sight. 
Witness a culture of blood and gore, my lord beckoned from a folklore. 
The time is now upon you and me, 
death will set us free, death will now set us free.

© Aniket More

Death, Truly Imminent


A ceremony of departure ensues.
The third eye awakens, the god of muse. 
Faces appear in the water and the night sky.
They beg to decipher the meaning of goodbye.
The mouth of torment has no teeth,
yet it devours all that can breathe.
Death brings a dark treat and a gift of curse.
A smile visits the god’s face, blissfully perverse. 

© Aniket More

Human, A Cancer Incurable


I’m god! Who is to say I’m not? 
I’m all that you desire, I’m three eyes from his face, I’m your asexual fire.
I’m all, all that flows from her throat to her lungs, I’m the cancer residing in you, melt, slowly burn.
I’m a disease, forming inside of you, there is no cure for me, I’m fucking depression. 
I’m molten lava, in your eyes, I’m the last flower of your lies, I’m all that you’ve been waiting for.
I’m two faced love, fuck your theories, I’m horror that glows.
Infinite stars, I am, waiting to devour your every dream.
Mindless games, I am, I play with you while you ask for suicide.
I’m human, I’m demon, I’m the god from the place they call earth.
I’m a drunkard, always drunk on the thoughts of lust.
I’m an animal, behaviour cannibal, I’m a corpse being dragged on the land that is not my own.
I’m disgusting and vile, I’m the last bone in your body, you spineless fuck.
I’m human and simply everything else.

© Aniket More

Mechanical Suicide

 
In to the night of starry skies and the figures of ancient kind, what have I seen? What am I seeing? 
A sky vomiting the moon, darkness eternal spreads across the land and the clocks resting on the tables, alarm clocks go deaf, nearing, closing, the toll of death.
TV screens flicker, no more PlayStation, a black hole appears sucking life in to the screen, sucking baseball fields, an unfriendly dream. The era of materialistic doom has come and is dancing upon our graves.
The fall of Internet, the rise of devices, suicides, hung by the cable that connected the world. Shatter proof glasses no longer bear the burden, they are breaking, machine made teenagers in making.
Earth, now a factory supplying mechanical brains while the sentiments fall deep in to vain. The rise of rebels, but their limbs were amputated, by the machines you call home, by the machines you call your own. 
The concrete society connected by cables and when the wifi is disabled, they all die in pain, the pain of the unknown. 
Real world, the old world, lost to itself, now rooted with machines, a mechanical story of blood and machine lubricant ensues. 

© Aniket More

I Could Have Been Your Life If You Wouldn’t Have Been My Death 


Sadness comes with the toll of the bells, recurrent, I’m becoming one with it.The mark of death upon my head, a thousand ravens fly from my orbs taking flight to the sky that is moonlit.
Wild hunger screams from deep within, a chaos in my throat resides,
Tearing the skin, but what’s left inside is a long lost scream.
Unsatisfied, dying alive, now what is left to ask from you?
Another skin that breathes with me, you are someone I never knew.
I don’t trust another being, a new human born every day, leaving less space to breathe and more skin to lick.
I’m struggling to survive, struggling to drink from their necks, I’m struggling like a flower in the desert.
I’m another skin, I’m another wind, I’m the weight of the bones that walks only to be fed to them.
I’m survival of the weakest, I’m dust in her cellar.
I’m the last thought in your mind and the invisible person in your life.
I’m gravelly ill and sadly sick, become sadness that is born from the weak.
I’m a mental disease, I’m Xanax down your throat, 
I’m hallucinations, I’m the lonely boat.
I’m a human with a name plate, I’m a number in the population,
I’m dew drops in the rain and winter when you are naked.
I’m a year when I was born, I’ll be a body when I’ll die, 
I’ll be my death certificate, your last memory and lonely cry. 
I’ll be a smiling face in the pictures, a scar in the sky, a forgotten disease and a living who passed by.
I’ll be dead and more, putrid and gore,
I’ll be fire if you burn me and I’ll be desire if you lit me,
I’ll be your hand if you ask me to, I’ll be your strength if you want me to.
I’ll be more than just skin and bones,
I’ll be more than a grave stone.
I’ll be a father to the new born kids,
I’d be the money to the homeless in need,
I’d be river that is bone dry, I’d be your evening slowing passing by,
I’d be the city you live in and your death bed,
I’d be your new year and eight glasses of wine in pain.
I can be more than the skin that is dry, I can be more than the lonely winter’s cry.
I can be more than the haunting silence in my cries, I can be a human and more than what meets the eye.

© Aniket More