John random's Blog (6)

to be in bed in their arms. its where you feel safe nd you can open up and say what hurts. or what makes you smile, where you can laugh and cry where you feel at home. its where time doesnt matter and it feels like forever but at the same time not long enough. their arms are like wings that shelter you from everything, anything dangerous cant find you there this place is a million miles from anywhere and even tho theres no bus stops and no taxis can get there even google map cant find it. you… Continue

a blast of frosted steel

we cut into their flesh

fatal are the wounds

when our swords swing and slash



crushing bones, spilling blood

blackened sky, rising souls



we are thee who've slain them

and to kill we carry on

through battle fields and countries

blood thirst will not be filled



odins voice is calling

we sacrifice to thee

the slaughtered sons and fathers

of our enemies



marching through the red… Continue

home, a place to remember, a place to return to. a place to build a place to feel safe. the place your from where you grew where you aged like a fine wine before you ventured out for the world to get its taste of you, for it to swirl you around in its glass and sip you, enjoy you, laugh about things with you with cheese and crackers. but be weary, they may see you as another tastng convention and spit you out. but as a trapeze artist has a safety net, home will always be there for you, for if… Continue

kill for the taste of the dripping blood,
kill for the moment of reality while you hold his spinal chord high above his fallen body as you bellow a
howl loud enough to awaken thor.
for that moment you are one with them,
both the gods and the previous owner of the steaming, dripping column you behold.

The sinister petulance of the pharrohs decomposing corpse tightens your lungs as we pass through the decrepit halls of the massive tomb. the dust is piled knee high, and the smell, oh the smell. the scent still lingers of the slaves who built this place, and the nauseous wreak of the royally dead. although this dry lung gripping excuse for oxygen is haunting, its no match for the erie ghastlyness of the black in here, the walls are so thick... no light can get in and no darkness was permitted… Continue

The Subtleties of the Zombie.



Showing no mercy, no regret, no emotion.

Nor shall they stop untill they are fed.

Their body language speaks their hate,

as we fall one by one to their horrific storm of enraged rotten flesh.

Oh as they bite, they tear, growl and scream.

My life means so little,

now that the fact is, that even if I did survive,

there wouldnt be much of a world left to share my life with.



This is the end



Do not find… Continue