†CrucifiedWhore†

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN

By Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I weave strings of words to spill the bitter bile mixed in every droplet of my blood, creating riffles which seeks to bring chaos in my mind. I recite hymns written by another writer, famous or unknown, falling in love with every hurtful prose whilst dreaming that someday I could make one of those. This is not just a leisure… it is my life that I’ll probably be wedded with my papers and ink before my end would come.
I’ll watch the world as it spins around, staring at my peers like a cunning hawk and march the earth armed with fatal wits and sharp tongue. If my current persona had lived five or more centuries ago, I would end up hanged in front of a spiteful crowd or perhaps I’ll be beheaded, scattering my blood all over a dusty platform which would serve as an entertainment for a multitude of ignorant folks.
I exist for the sake of existence itself and for almost two decades life had been empty and I myself had been hallow for far too long. I dreamed of death almost everyday, contemplating suicides as I lay myself upon my bed. Everybody deserves to die, even you and even I but truth be told, we were afraid to meet this destined fate. Suicide should not be considered taboo nor should it be considered as a laughing stock, it is not a trend meant for ridiculous youth for it is the sincerest form of criticism directed towards life. It ought to be discussed with a certain amount of seriousness.
I’m just a wretched fool like you, like them, and like everybody else. We are all fools! A pretentious bunch of worthless and pathetic humans scampering over a borrowed land while pampering our god damned ego with absurd thoughts like how we are far more superior above all other life forms. I might be bitter but I’m also true and I dare not close my eyes from the lucidity of our secular affairs. I shall not cover my ears from the screaming reality surrounding me.
I have my share of stupidity and so do you, but thankfully mine is not enough to go down to science. I could be shallow and childish but to a far lesser scope compared to your typical young lady on her late teens, thank you very much. Yes I’m young but I learned much from the cruelty and immorality of humankind. Indeed the world had broke me up, but one must commit to his/her brains that those children whom the world has nearly broke would be the one’s to save it someday… one day. You shall see… We shall see…

THE ART OF PRETENCE

#0033 - 28th of January 2008
†CrucifiedWhore†
Wear this mask and hide your face
Put this gown on and hide your scars
Clad your face with waxy paints
And do away with pretentious grace
Wipe your tears away and fake a smile
Start to act like it’s all worthwhile
Drink another glass of sophisticated lies
And try to suppress your mournful cries
Dance with this gentleman who beguiles you
Make him feel like you want him too
Touch his face and whisper in his ears
Tell him that you truly want him near
Lay yourself on this four-poster bed
Lined with cotton pillows and finest silks
Take your victim’s hand and put him at ease
Then get what you need as swiftly as the breeze
Slowly take all your garments off
In the midst of the darkness’ sweet embrace
While enticing his mind till he grew insane
Cling unto him without showing your face
A beautiful flower cursed with deadly thorns
A lovely stranger devoured by scorn
Such an exotic maiden entwined in fatal lust
With an intoxicated mind and a heart covered with dust
Move stylishly and charm them all
Hide the filth that lingers in your soul
Drown yourself on another bottle of wine
As you make-believe that everything’s just fine