Spadille

...was to be a song...

My life's full of the memories,
your darkness which now grows in me,
Delightful; accepting, the beauty
growing, lighting.
- My hopes are all I share with you
- My dreams and what I wish of you
- The curtain calls,
The tear-stained glass, Oh how...
Oh how I long for it to pass...
The pain, bleak bleak memory;
My life's full of these memories.

So... I thought it might be interesting for those of you who are interested in black goths to see some images of one... and also to hear from one who lives in a RIDICULOUSLY HOT PLACE!!!

I MUST emphasize that this is for those of you who are truly interested...

I have always had a remarkable fascination for dark, 'dangerous', mysterious, etc... things. When I was MUCH younger, my great-grandmother would tell me about a mermaid she once saw when she went down to the...

The Heart, a senseless pump,
of meaninglessness unbeknownst
to those, who are fools themselves
and claim no heart of stone.

A frail, vile corrupting thing
that once applied to man,
inhibits the process of natural thought
affecting the minds' true stand.

A silly thing, of such short will,
needing even less of truth;
for the Heart and the feelings it provides
are evil at its root.

TS -

The splintered soul, how it falls,
It falls so delicately down;
It fears the rumble it would cause
If it plummeted to the ground.
The heavenly choir that follows,
allows it to shimmer momentarily;
Then it's consumed in fiery rapture,
until the red flames turn azure.

The splintered soul, no pieces now left -
consumed up by fright,
By the jinns inhabiting the land
by every growing mighty sprite.
Its' delicacy,...