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The Grim Reaper's Ball


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The Grim Reaper’s Ball

I am a ghost and I can not see myself in the dining room mirror
White and transparent I dance with
The spirits of dead men
Who whisper sweet nothings into my invisible ears

And we especially enjoy dining together
Feasting on the succulent passions
Of hearts that are alive and in love
Floating across the table we laugh ourselves to death
Throwing back our heads with sensuous extravagance
Welcoming musky embraces from this compelling
Prince who captivates and seduces all who have felt the sun

And we drift above the golden goblets and silver plates
Exchanging gilded seats
Defying gravity at last
Licking the blood off our fingers
And remembering what it was like to
Be alive and feel emotion

We dance the dance of silver-grey phantoms
Making the dust swirl quietly beneath our
Floating feet
Our entree is the delicious elegance of mortal fears
And answered suppositions

I am a ghost and I look over your shoulder
When you look into the dining room mirror
We all look over your shoulder
And if you sit very still in this empty ballroom
You may even hear us laughing


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  • 4 weeks later...

All this needs is some sassier language a setting change and you've got something from the golden ballroom of The Shining.

A nice haunting piece, the language makes me think of a brothel full of pirates and old seamen past but still kicking it old school.


"Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends.

There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh."


"I don't believe you."


"Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume.

To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart."

"There's a starving beast inside my chest
playing with me until he's bored
Then, slowly burying his tusks in my flesh
crawling his way out he rips open old wounds

When I reach for the knife placed on the bedside table
its blade reflects my determined face
to plant it in my chest
and carve a hole so deep it snaps my veins

Hollow me out, I want to feel empty"
-- "Being Able To Feel Nothing" by Oathbreaker


"Sky turns to a deeper grey

the sun fades by the moon

hell's come from the distant hills

tortures dreams of the doomed

and they pray, yet they prey

and they pray, still they prey"
-- "Still They Prey" by Cough


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