Archive for December, 2010

Nostalgia

Posted in Writings with tags , , , , , , , , , , on December 23, 2010 by Eyeless

Lost at the river,

Two shades of grief

Pain did never suit your face

Escaping to black memories

This is our asylum far away

Where the frozen spirit sits,

Watching sad reflections where

Trees abandoned the cold Earth

and Everything turned grey

but It was never my world

a Home to the pallid and the frail

a Shattered porcelain vase, just

Shards that would cut all bonds to this,

The last song was never played

Not our turn anyway, our fall

Sacrificed one eye to live,

To suffer with my dying twin

yet As we sink deeper still

You crave more of me

Not your son, nor your father

We are soon lost now, separated

Told you to never look back

But you betrayed all this

stabbed me while I waited

For the echoes of your call

Behind the horizon veil

I Drowned the sun; your father.

Death Reflected in Frozen Mirrors

Posted in Music, Writings with tags , , , , , , , , , on December 17, 2010 by Eyeless

A winter came that seized my veins

No fires returned, No warmth behind

An inner pale world held in chains

Withering palace in ice enshrined

and My eyes will finally see

What death reflected In frozen mirrors

All that is withered and facing away

Toward the end of my life

And all hope is crushed and all tears have dried

The reflections will disappear and die

Then all shall suffer, Then all shall see

The mirrors will shatter and bleed for me.

It has begun -the end

I have seen it end

The Swedish Suicide Bomber

Posted in Thoughts and rants with tags , , , , , on December 15, 2010 by Eyeless

Wow, it actually happened. A suicide bomber. In Sweden. Wow. Suddenly I know how it feels to live in a country with suicide bombers. My first thought and reaction? “How pathetic,” with a slight feeling of shock from within my stomach. No fear is present though; fear feeds the mongers. The only thing that (kind of) half-exists is the exhaustion from over-exposure to morons. I still have not found the answer…Exactly how do you make people listen by blowing yourself to pieces? Exactly how does it make your point clear? Exactly how does it scare people into obedience?

“Your arguments are invalid because I blew myself to pieces.”

“You do not have faith in the right religion, therefore I blow myself to pieces.”

“I am a bad husband, therefore I blow myself to pieces.”

Good way to solve a problem, Cheers! Was he a terrorist? No, probably not, even though it is what everybody wants him to be. Was there an organisation behind the deed? Even more unlikely. A car exploded, then a man exploded; number of dead: 0; number of harmed: 2. If he was part of an organisation, the damage would have been far greater. But today’s Swedish media needs the constant fear of the people to sell, so they keep on with their fear mongering. All in vain though, for I do not believe we will have any more suicidal bombings for a while.

Swedish suicide bombers…Good riddance, I say.

You Are Still Alive

Posted in Featured, Writings on December 8, 2010 by Eyeless

One of my poems were featured and promoted on deviant art, on >this< link.

Let us suffer here
And be simply the same
As before
Let us wait for another year
To bring back the past
And Erase the day
No more
Will I linger here

Still alive
In the Cold light…

To be the same
Is to be alone
Without the cure
For life
What We became
I still swallow
Dreams when you were
Still alive

Still alive
In the Cold light…

Somewhere
In traces of my heart
You lie Behind me
As I follow failure
Where
The constant struggle drains
My last cup
Was emptied with my tears

Still Alive
In the cold light…

Fivefold Thoughts

Posted in Esoteric Thoughts with tags , , , , , , , on December 7, 2010 by Eyeless


You sit there, holding in front of you a cubic box. As you caress the four sides you investigate the carvings on it with your glowing eyes. But you figure so much about the reasons and the origin of those marks that you forget the inside. The inside (the content of the box) has been forgotten. Blinded are those foolish, curious eyes, by the nature of the surface. To those eyes, that box is nothing but a silent, hollow shell. Or perhaps not empty at all, but dense like a rock. But do not forget, put the shell to you ear and you shall hear the crashing waves of the sea.

Our spiritually sagacious forebears pressed their minds out of the rigid confinement of the “four-sided” box. They grasped the concept of a more expansive essence unifying the common four elements. That’s where the fifth element makes its appearance in esoteric thought. That is where the hollow shell becomes dense as a rock.