Sonnet 4

All that I view feels like an illusion.

None of it seems to come near.

Has it become all that I fear?

Is there anyone who can feel my confusion?

Is this maybe just a delusion.

Everything vanish that I hold dear.

Will my vision ever become clear?

Will these thoughts ever come to a conclusion?

What if the soul could be released.

Escape from the body in which it stayed.

Eventually it will become nothing more than a shade.

It will know that the mind is deceased.

How come it is so difficult to feel?

Maybe it is not even real.

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Sonnet 3

Slowly they all keep flowing down the river.

Their appearance be nothing more than a ghost.

For eternity being watched by their host.

Making all the rest of the mortals shiver.

By the name, by his title, they all quiver.

The ferryman brings them all to coast.

Are they possibly wondering who misses them the most.

Now there is no escape from their caregiver.

A few lucky mortals though.

Are brought to the everlasting Fields.

Perhaps their linage protected by shields.

Those few ones be embraced by the glow.

The time is ticking, calling on all.

Soon it will also be our time to fall.

Sonnet 2

Demons get out, vanish from my head.

You have trapped me in this body of misery and pain.

How can there possibly be anything more for you to gain?

Stop enlarge all these fears you have fed.

You are the reason for all the tears I have shed.

All of these powers that you drain.

Still keeping me locked in this chain.

Oh how you have loved causing these colours of red.

You placed this soul, this broken antiquity.

In this flesh that you keep carving your symbols.

Much like the mechanism was powered by gimbals.

Assuring that the mind is driven to iniquity.

You torture us just like we are slaves.

Until we have finished digging our graves.

A sonnet

Pain is the only love that I have known.

It is empty, bloody and rotten to the core.

Yet for some reason I keep asking for more.

As I exist in the darkness all by my own.

All the wounds that I have sown.

All gotten on this hellish moor.

The blood yet spilt upon the floor.

While I sit upon this ghoulish throne.

The jet black heart ripped from my chest.

Emptiness now in both body and mind.

Now not anything like mankind.

The appearance thrown away as a pest.

How come no one ever sees me?

I guess I have simply ceased to be.