A Bitter Terror That Hides In The Cold

By this unhinged craziness - I sing praises to dead rabbits.Embodied by the craven of sin, their whispers exist in me.No dawn can avert me, just leave me here in this forbidding place.All I want is this noesis to leave me on this crest of soaring Alps.The bliss of this nameless nightmare will make me dwell on its snow-covered form.  All I can discern are gateways leading into the deepest frozen infernos.  None of them are willing to torment me - as I am already disturbed.  Is this the stead where God has died? It seems to be fervently so.  No Moon has ascended here - only a pallid eye-like sun was staring down at me. Only this bitter cold shows me a real horror - a dreadful worry that no monster has to reside in it. Vacancy has made the surrounding atmosphere eerily still. All there was was a weak hum of a chirping bird whistling in the obscurity. Every Tree was massless - nameless - shapeless confined to hostile spaces that grew ahead. This aeonian, a limitless eternity of interminable suffering, has a beckon to endure fourth.  Indignant cries erupt from my flaccid throat - sounding for a sob that someone can hear. All there was a deafening hush, with that ominous bird tweeting in the distance; so I believed. Within a moment, a rumbling of a devastating howl was booming and crashing directly in front of me. It was indeed not a wolf, for this was something far more malicious than any canine species. I could not perceive it with my naked eyes, for it was just another aspect of the void that can not be witnessed. Its presence did not want to be detected, it just desired for me to know its existence is here. Inconceivably, I was not able to go face-to-face with this utterly horrific thing that was invisible before me. O’ the great madness and fright was ravaging me, rendering me psychotic and deranged. Discordantly, this nemesis splendor was starting to manifest its fondness for my presence. Barren and bleak when it invoked its cryptic witchcraft, withering away my insecurities to be frightened. The bottomless pit was eager for me to be eternal, wanting to enthrone my image as the coming Lucifer. I was conceived to become the supreme embodiment of blasphemy for the emergence of hell itself. My inner consciousness was being Plunged by the menacing screaming, as my hearing was being bombarded by piercing sounds of a violin shrieking. The God-awful screech of these horribly shrill screams were just the roar of hysterical laughter.  Chaos - O’ that glorious disarray - I was condemned to be impelled with an absurd compulsion for madness.

This poem is about: 
Me

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