Down The Haunted Road It is July 5th, nighttime. I am walking down Cuba Road in Long Grove, Illinois, the large canopy of elm leaves enveloping me, blocking out the brilliant night sky — the moon is full and what threadbare light pierces the trees illuminates my path. They say there are ghosts on this road, and I do not believe them, because I live here and I have never seen a ghost in my life. I do not believe in ghosts. I do, however, see a deer; it does not look up at me. I am the ghost that haunts these roads, and this deer haunts these roads, and we know each other well. It leaps into the forest as I pass, and I continue walking down Cuba Road.Down The Haunted Road by ~Kuraiou
It is ve
Not Too Long Ago When I was youngNot Too Long Ago by ~Kuraiou
I would never, ever cry
It was a promise I had made to myself
blinded by naivety
I did not understand the way the world worked
But I made this promise, and I kept it
And then she broke my heart.
Always or a girl;
not too long ago, I had sworn I would never cry again.
I had learned my lesson.
Touch hedgehog, get stabbed.
Cut to little pieces.
Not too long ago I was in love.
And I swore I would not hurt her and she would not hurt me.
And I cursed and hated myself because it was all lies.
Those were halcyon days, looking back, because
although every second was agony and pain
at least I had those feelings, at lea
Entropy Turn, clock, turn,Entropy by ~Kuraiou
and with each moment start your decay anew!
Tick down the harrowing seconds,
show the world what it is losing!
Let the winds pull the hourglass grains
and howling scour the earth's soft flesh!
I care not for what once was,
what your ponderous chords revealed as false.
Tear down this accursed memory!
Of a young girl who once smiled at me
and of the false promise the future swore to me,
drawn inexorably into your pale grasp.
When all is cold and barren and gone,
when the pendulum's movement finally ceases,
maybe then this rage will subside.
Maybe then I can go to sleep
with an eternal night as my blanket.
Cathedral Ghosts Hallowed halls and hollow holesCathedral Ghosts by ~Kuraiou
wondering which reflects the soul
or mirrors thoughts that go so low
to see them is to know the truth
without which fact can find no proof
and hang the holy in their noose
of twine and rope gone loose and slack
to balance the weight upon their back
of corridors which they once roamed
searching for the long lost tome
that read to them their memories
of long lost places that echo still
and still the echoes in the mind
seeking that which is divine
Lazy 
Sta.sh
