[  Mood: Scared ]
[  Currently: Listening to Mediaeval Baebes ]
I’ve been dabbling in insanity in my spare time, as a hobby. Behold, the bounty of my harvest, filled with all the violent emotions wielded by Godless men – hatred, confusion, LUST! The fear that gives men wings and the rage that causes chase and murder. Envy the poor and destitute their freedom. Here it is, I have it, it cost me nothing. So, come all ye bipolar, deranged, expatriate, sickly, weak and damned. Enter my den, but leave behind your deprivation as soon as you smell the perfume of sulfur. I accept you whole and more, I see you as you want to be, not as you are. Indulge, abandon all hope and suffer decadence amongst like minded friends. The royal court of my accursed kingdom awaits your whimpers and lamentations. It is fine to hate yourself.

Dark is the Valley – the Valley of Shadows,
Weary of heart and of life is the King –
He sits among ruins, and thorny the meadows,
The meadows unfruitful, forgotten the Spring.
A green snake is keeping the Palace’s portal,
The lizard is warder of desolate halls,
And wine has no savour, and Love the Immortal
Seems dying at even, as fast the light falls.
O, dark is the Valley, the Valley at even,
The King’s brow is clouded, the King’s heart is black,
His down-gazing eyes raise no glance to the heavens
Where angels are winging their homeward-bound track.