We were angels once...

Does the company of seraphs, hold the same regret
As these walks with demons?
Does virtue wonder, the pleasures of vice
Like those of the fallen, envy souls intact?
We sell ourselves, never appreciative of the cost
Till all humanity in us, is spent.
I recall a boy with an impenetrable heart,
And vows of love, innocent.
When flesh was a cage, all senses useless
Incorruptable, save by love.
All purity is destroyed by the virtue
It fights to uphold.
All evil is redeemed, in a moment of mercy,
And in an instant, lives are transformed
As if an entire lifetime, never existed,
Such is justice. Such are the just.
Desptie myself, despite my inhumanity
I only desire, my mother does not remember me thus.
Let the rest be laid to waste, for in my heart lies the Lord
Slain in battle.
But let not the womb, that birthed something so pure
Be stained by the blood, of the man it became.

by Haemophiliac...
...finished 18/02/09

My Experiments with Vice: Rulebook

in the pursuit of vice, we must condition ourselves
for beauty, wealth, and the material
are all pre-requisites of physical nourishment,
currencies devoted to burning flesh, and starved senses.

such are truths that romantics choose to ignore,
seeking to elevate themselves, to shapelesness
without the limitations of senses, and in abandoning any one
embracing all.

by Haemophiliac...
...finished 17/02/09

My Experiments with Vice

Even in vice, be careful of what you touch
For we never desire what we have.
If you truly love something
Remain aloof, lest you ruin the few things of beauty.
Innocence was not meant for the corrupt,
Let not everything be, as ugly as our kind.

by Haemophiliac...
...finished 17/02/09

Conscience

Conscience. My Conscience,
Allow me to be, as I desire.
Leave me to taste,
Temptation, as She so asks.
Let me live, leave me to feel
For denial is a lie.
How does one exist,
Without the pleasure of pain?
Why see, if not to touch
Why touch, if not to feel,
Why thirst, if not to quench…
Surely oceans lie in waste, otherwise?
What is it to be, to be
If not to melt into each calling of passion?
Leave me be, you are useless
For when I loved with honour, I lost.
Time and again ravaged, on account of your counsel
I tied the sinews of my heart to another's.
Now stretched on life's wrack, stretched till the sinews gave way
Can he not rest, in your grave?
All morals be gone, for what good is morality
Without the man?

by Haemophiliac...
...finished 16/02/09

In His Image...

All being,
Is found in the life force of another.
For one to live,
Another must die.
It is the mercy of a benevolent Creator
In His Infinite Wisdom, that made all else finite.
Murder, was thus decreed,
Etched in the heavens themselves.
What crime do mere mortals then commit,
In reaching for the stars?

by Haemophiliac...
...finished 10/02/09