Beyond Charismatic Sickness

I was dilapidated, but still backstabbed in bitterness

Though to had vanquished the disdain of living

I was assured I had overcome scorchful misery

But none ever really ceased, it compelled me in deceit

Lured me in existential anfractuosity

Emaciated the bareness of my will

Now I stare, enthralled by ravenous choirs of self-deprivation

Suffering the reminiscence of past injuries, or yet to come

For time has vanished, as well as love, here, in this (my) Necrodome

All that is left belches of apathy

Surrounding humans sometime befall to this aura

Intrigued by what seems grimly unattainable

Secretly wondering what is that chokes light

But there is no pride, for I'm sadness in its purest form

Even in my brightest effulgence, I was admonished

By mutters of purity, who've pierced my Armour of understandings

Oh, I begged for recrudescence, in this life, morose

Muted and blinded by darkness, which aggrieves me

For none has tasted the pernicious obscurity, as I did,

the conceited vengeance

We all sought, for it has dissipated in forgiveness

Tarnished grandeur I desecrate, from my fathomless scorn

I was given birth remorsefully in this antithetical reality

Surrounded by worthless contorted visages

Who seeks affability and compassion, through my depths

Who exist to justify my hatred, to cripple my dreams

Wounded shapes averting their gaze, furthermore from truth

Gagging in beatific haze, as their insignificance suppurates:

But who is skimming retribution?

Me? Who's secluded in this cold realm, of creeping calmness?

Or the ones masked behind dead lights of fulfillment?

I drift away in melancholy, passing by glancing hopes

Haunted by macabre flaring disgust

Where fragments of idle moments, are befouled with casual anguishes

Enticed by dying essence, of spectral lurkers

Feeling the liquidity of a soul unrested