Feb. 27

I have a poem by my friend, Inigo Monzon. It's untitled but I think you get the picture.. It's a tad bit gothic but it's really evident of an honest emotion. Enjoi.


Eyes made of shattered glass
with a hint of reflection from the unseen.
We walk alongside the river of the forgotten,
the path of mistrust, the spiral staircase of death
and the twisting corners of life.
All combined in the bowels of manipulation,
deception, misery, love, friendship, and pain.
Never forget the light that guided you down.
Down into the undying thorns of the flesh.
Down into the rotting corpse resting in your hands.
Down into the unending hunger of agony.
Agony is inevitable.
Agony was the essence your mother
breathed into your soul to give you life.
Agony brought you into this world
and agony will be your way out.
Agony is life.
Agony is a witness
to the deaths of a few individuals
multiplied into a series
of orange panels.
We are but mere impulses of our own idiocy.
A massive herd composed of decapitated meat.
We consume,
we shit,
we die,
we rot,
but we do not live.