Poetry is the human way to deal with emotional trauma... some of my poetry
causes
emotional trauma.
An Early Morning Dream
Wasted words
On my forked tongue
Bitter taste of sadness...
Always the right words
Only two years too late...
Nothing I ever said ever changed
Anything I ever did....
Never again will "I Love You"
Have any meaning behind it...
Never will the words touch my heart
Never will I feel them as I say them...
I'm broken inside.
I have hurt all...
Never to be forgiven by any...
For I know what it is
To be hated by those you love the most...
No tears upon my face
But frozen tears within my heart
Remind me of the pain... the love... the sadness...
I never wanted to feel so empty
I never wanted to feel so unwanted... abandoned.
I wanted you for eternity...
Wasted words, empty heart...
Frozen tears in a loving heart
Yearning to give to those I miss the most...
But I stand here judged, unforgiven...
Maliciously hated by my sister...
Abandoned by my extended family... misunderstood...
Unloved by Katie....
A tattoo on my arm cries my pain...
For never again shall I.
Still in love with her...
Sad...
Broken....
Lord Dellamorté
April 20, 2000
Cemetery Twilight
Cemetery twilight
The smell of freshly dug earth
Flickering candles light the path
The path leads nowhere........
The angel statues weep with me
The flowers wilt for me
Heavy are my footsteps
Tearful are my eyes
Jasmine floats wearily upon the breeze...
In darkness let me dwell
For all of my love is here
Dead and buried
As I will one day be
Overwhelming are the whispers upon the wind
Calling me to join them within the void...
Crickets and katydids play a dark dirge
Welcoming me home...
Darkness reigns within my heart
And it is here that I belong...
Lord Dellamorté
April 22, 2000
The Darkening of the Light
Lonely was the sad little boy in the corner.
Tears rolled quietly from his broken eyes
Death played a funeral march upon his face.
Fear of being alive tore him apart
Too fragile of a mind to comprehend his own thoughts.
A sad little boy, a broken toy lays beside him
Is all of life full of nothing but
Disappointments and shattered dreams?
All alone in an unknown world
Nobody there to even play with
Terrible fears of the world around him
Brought here against his will...
...without his permission.
The sorrow in his big brown eyes
Speaks so much more loudly than words
Of sadness, depression, disappointment, and promises broken.
Nine years old, nothing more than a fragile flower
Of what one day he will grow to be
And already he knows of pain, loneliness,
Hurt, rejection, and misery.
Lonely is the sad man in the corner.
Forgotten.
Lord Dellamorté
June 22, 1994
Deepness of Love
How can I prove my love for you?
How can my sincerity show through?
When I gaze upon your sweet familiar features
My spirit glows with warmth.
As I lay upon the couch and cry--
So deep is the pain inside of me for hurting you--
I can still smell your soft scent upon the fabric.
Your picture smiles down upon me, radiating such love
and beauty... so I cry some more.
I am not a wealthy man, I cannot buy you the world
To make it all better- and I know you don't want it anyway.
Deep inside I am tormented so much...
Not knowing how I could be so mean to one who is
So sweet and beautiful.
Someone who never hurt me, yet I gave so much misery.
Never before have I wanted so much to be forgiven.
But, alas, I do not know where to begin.
I want so much to heal the hurt that I have caused--
Never realizing that I could hurt so much-- myself and others--
I love you to death, and if that is where I must take this love
Then so be it, for I would die for you, I would kill for you.
I love you so much, I am so sorry.
I'm begging to be forgiven, for I have seen my evil ways.
And if I shall have to live without you, then I shall NOT live.
For I will surely die of regret and sadness,
Knowing that I hurt the only one I love and live for...
And will happily die for.
Lord Dellamorté
February 19, 1998
Deep Regrets of Life
The pain is destroying my entire world from the inside.
The inability to release myself from this prison of memories
Corrupts my thoughts of love and happiness.
In no way do I know how to release myself from
this
hell.
The painful memories given to me by everyone....
No longer do I want them inside of me.
The deep guilt brought forth by all I have done to those that have done to me...
It just isn't worth it.
But how does one leave all those memories behind?
How to lose them instead of my mind...?
How to forgive, or more importantly, forget?
How to learn to rid oneself of the overbearing pain brought forth
By thoughtless others?
How do I stop hurting others and myself?
All I feel, all I know... is that I am slowly dying a painful death deep down inside...
Lord Dellamorté
September 21, 1998
Demented Eroticism
Across the abysmal miles my soul cries
For love lost before it was found...
In the tender quiet of the night
I think of you....
I wonder if you walk under the same stars
The same moon...
Do you feel the same fear that breathes
So heavily over my shoulder....
Carried by the lost whispers in the night?
The mystical, enchanting dreams once envisioned
Are but particles of soul scattered throughout oblivion...
The calling from your soul in the midnight moonlight
Rips at my tattered mind.... gently begging me forth
To another time, another place within....
To explore the moon-drenched shores of the terrifying ocean...
To hide in the night amongst the rows
And do the things we were taught not to dream of.
A phobic desire to explore the melancholy-love of my soul...
To lie down in those pastures of green that haunt my mind
A never-dying desire to feel.... to breathe... the haunting unknown...
To become one with the shadows... to be the mystical trance forevermore.
An age-old dream to dance within the dream and never wake...
To live forever more in the state of euphoric transcendental love...
To dream forever within the dream of psychosis...
And to fill my soul with demented actions and thoughts
That those special to me would surely damn me for.
All I ever wanted was someone to share the psychotic dreams
Of forbidden carnal delights.... sexual deviation and dementia.
A never-ending dream of erotic pleasure...
Rev. Lord Dellamorté
October 19, 1999
To those that I wish would understand.... and partake of my soul....
DRIFT
High into the deep moonlit sky
My love and feelings float
Forever searching to light down around you
In a shroud of everlasting, spiritual mysticism.
To embrace you whilst I cannot
For I am but a ghost of the man I was...
Eternally searching, internally suffering
Easy are you in my eyes, but alas,
You so easily slip through my ghostly grasp.
Damned forever to never entwine my love with yours
Hallowed is your very essence
Dark, death-romanticism and tumultuousness
What is Hell?
So silently do the bloody tears slide from my hollow eyes
So empty is my transparent touch
How disappointed I am...
Lord Dellamorté
January 19, 1996
Elegy of the Malevolent Tryst
The streets are all empty
As are the corridors of my mind.
Disconnected ghosts- so mystical in their grief
Unorthodox disdainfulness in my misanthropic self
So forlorn in my own self-abhorrence
No longer is there comfort in the spirits-
Unhallowed be my name.
For thou is Death, and I love thee... eternally.
Come to me in this bitter time of need and despair-
And tear apart my soul
Send it throughout the night to the four winds
And never let it bleed again...
Lord Dellamorté
January 22, 1996
Enigma is Death
Every second of my life
I am but one second away
From killing myself.
I have forgotten how to love
Forgotten how to live
Forgotten to care, understand, and listen
No patience are left within my bitter mind.
Other people seem to be nothing to me
Except obstacles that I must clear.
I am like this because of all the stress
That has been dumped upon me.
Inside there is not a bitter old man,
Yet my mouth opens, my face deceives me
Others think I am crazy.
Lord Dellamorté
June 2, 1994
Failure Through Time
The streets of my memories
Are not paved with sainthood...
Instead they are cluttered
With the souls of would-be saints.
For the gods have failed us
Or perhaps they no longer have the power to help or care
For they leave us here to suffer in pain...
And rot and die.
Forgiveness is empty...
Guilt is irrelevant.
For nothing we have ever done, are doing, or ever will do...
Will matter when we finally die.
I have lost all hope... my dreams are gone.
All I ever wanted was to love you...
Now my soul is broken.
Lord Dellamorté
April 2, 1999
Haunted
Ghosts, demons, and memories....
Haunt my every breath.
I have tried to bring the dead to life...
But they seem to live within their own death.
The three that meant so much
Stood so strong and true
Watching as I threw them away
A painful memory that I relive every day...
No one will let me revive them...
No one will allow me to resurrect the dead
No one will allow me to purge myself of my sin
No one will accept the love within my heart or the thoughts within my head...
Wailing upon the moor of time
They call to me in the cool night
Disturbing my sleep...
Only there to taunt, never to forget, never to forgive...
Unjustly accusing me of sins I never did commit
Judge, jury, executioner...
My punishment... to miss them forevermore...
My guilt... be my only friend...
My sorrow, regret, loneliness... be my companions...
My cross is heavy, my punishment unfair...
Forever abandoned to this place of torment
My screams echoing forever throughout nothingness...
My life-- forever taunted by my love for them...
Still I love them... still I miss them...
Still I am very sad.
Lord Dellamorté
April 20, 2000
Heaven and Hell III
I want to go to Hell someday,
I heard it is a great place to stay.
It's all work
And no play.
I heard you only go to Hell if you are a jerk.
I want to go to Hell, please show me the way.
I don't want to go to Heaven someday,
I heard it was full
And no place to stay.
It is all play and gets dull.
When the Arc-Angel took his fall,
He went to Hell
And said He'd have a ball.
I have fell so show me the way to Hell.
Lord Dellamorté
January 26, 1986
Age 15
Is There Anybody Out There???
Are you out there?
Maybe looking in at me?
What do you see?
A lonely person with no place to go
A lonely person with nothing to show
For eighteen years of his life?
Are you out there looking in at me?
Who is out there for me?
Am I all alone in this world?
I came into this world against my will
And I'll go out disappointed.
Is there anybody out there?
Who will admit they care?
I will admit it,
Because I've been there and I know
The empty, cold feeling inside when your name doesn't blow
In the quiet, darkness of the night.
Lord Dellamorté
January 17, 1989
Moonlight Dreams
Not a sound; no, please... not a sound...
In this timeless void... we are.
The stars, the moon- they are the ceiling...
The darkness... the walls...
And the cool, wet grass, that is the soft bed.
The cool breeze that blows ever so gently
is but a subtle reminder that all comes to change...
But as I gaze upon your beautiful face
And tell myself once again how much I love you,
Nothing else really matters.
The smile on you, as pure as a crystal stream,
And your eyes... two perfect diamonds...
I take your silky hand into mine, and smell
the soft scent of your skin
So seductive, so erotic, so hypnotic... romantic...
Say not a word... beautiful one.
Allow me to engrave your image in my mind...
To remember the smell of your skin...
And to know the beautiful feeling
of what it is to love you.
Lord Dellamorté
August 2, 1995
Morté
Within the season of evil death and damnation
My soul has wandered once again to the dark side
So many thanks be given to Kate, so take my tears.
Dark realization of childhood traumas and lost evil fears.
To whither and waste away the particles of soul
That inhabit my physical being is all to do.
So forsaken by all your gods, so forsaken by you...
This is Hell, as you would believe in it...
Through my own spiritual decay, I have fought so long and hard
To obtain all that I possess--- nothing.
Through the dark night within my mind's dark eye
I travel eternally searching for the non-existing.
Never shall I understand the origin of my torment,
Never shall I be allowed to baske within the light
Nor shall I travel the path of the damned.
No, I shall forever be between the both,
Traveling in the dusk forevermore, not evil, nor good,
But suffering in between for being all that I know how to be.
Somewhere within the confines of mental and spiritual death
do I rejoice in happiness.
No souls shall or will comfort me, no demons ask upon me,
The angels have flown into the light, only to escape my empty darkness,
Gods look the other way, in shame for creating me
And I find that my existence is only in non-existence
I live only in death, death is my life...
And I am only that sad tear caught in the corner of your eye
That gracefully drops upon your love's casket
As it is lowered into the empty, dark, uncaring earth
forevermore.
Lord Dellamorté
April 5, 1998
My Father
My dad
A man that I seldom talked to.
It was that I was scared of him and did not know what to do.
I had the thought that I was never to know him
Any other way but as a father.
Only to know him as an authority figure and never a friend.
All the times he yelled and would shout
The million times he bailed me out.
The endless advice that I never listened to,
I sure would have if I only knew....
To realize that he was once my age
To realize he once had the same thoughts and feelings I do...
For 20 years I have shunned my father... too scared of him.
I never gave him credit,
Never did I see
That he tried so hard because
He didn't want to be an abusive alcoholic like Grandpa was.
I thought I was a Marine for 16 years
And he was my Drill Sergeant
Screaming and spitting in my face... poking my chest with that damn finger...
And his backhand taught me nothing
His leather belt and that Matchbox car plastic racing track
Taught me nothing but hate...
And the time he broke that bamboo cane over me with one smack...
But tonight I read one of his poems, "Growing Up" it was,
Written when he was my age, it made the light a bit less dim.
Finally realizing he was but a man, a person
Doing only the best he can.
Knowing he felt exactly as I do when he was my age...
I never gave him credit for what he did,
I only remember the times he was mad and I ran and hid.
I never tried to get to know this man called "dad",
Now, in my 22nd year, I am more than a little sad...
But he pushed me so far away...
We will never see eye to eye,
But I will do my best, I will give it a try,
To get to know this man that I call "Dad".
Father, your love confused me
You saved my ass as many times as you whipped it...
You told me to be nice to my mom
Yet all you did was fight with her...
Never did I see you kiss her...
Or hold her... or love her...
All I saw was anger in your eyes...
And still you fight with her after 33 years
Still married, even more confusing--
I did learn, I learned well
I learned that we show our love by making life Hell.
I learned of abandonment and hate when you both
Handed me over to the psycho ward and left me to rot
Because no longer could you deal with the monster you had taught...
You let mom cut my hair that I loved so much... so against my will...
And you threw away all of my memories
As you militantly cleaned my room as if I were a Marine still...
At times you were a monster, other times I thought you actually cared
And I grew up to be just as loving and hostile and abusive...
Now, at 28, I struggle to overcome my hostility and hate
And I have always hoped it was never too late... to change...
It destroyed me when I left my children six years ago with their mom...
And I miss them...
But I had become just like you
Just like Grandpa
A monster.
And I refuse to hurt my children the way you hurt me,
The way you let others hurt me...
And the way you embarrassed me in front of your friends...
Now I am doing the best I can... a monster-- hostile, hateful, and abusive...
You taught me well, I hope you are proud.
Lord Dellamorté
July 2, 1993/August 3, 1999
Roses
Roses
Drip blood from their fragile petals
Do they sing a song for the lonely man?
Visions of thorns are embedded in my dreams
Rose petals drown in the sorrowful sea
Float down through my wine glass
Roses
Drip blood from their harsh thorns
Crimson tears float silenty
Down into the ground with the rain
And make their way to the darkening sea.
Roses
So beautiful in the morning dew
Sweet smell
Rising up into the mourning air.
Roses
Delightful to smell
Enticing to see
The thorns are only there
To protect their magical beauty.
So much like life
So much like love
Don't look below at the thorns
Look at the beautiful flower up above.
Lord Dellamorté
April 20, 1994
Tripped Visions of Psychotic Colors
Unholy red and black - colors of truth
Blood
red passion and dead black roses
crumble away in a black vase on a black stand.
Sad red blood
stains
the wall where it met her black face
My grey heart turned to black the day she died
Blue were my feelings when I knew she no longer existed
Blood and roses, a mix of dead love of my black girl
That blackness of remorse shall cover me through-out existence
For in a way, unknown among most, in a cruel,
black way, I killed her. And still
the
blood stains
the
wall
...
Lord Dellamorté
February 8, 1996
Untitled
The mystical breeze upon my mystical heart
The smell of freshly dug earth...
Its sight captured by the hovering moon in the midnight sky...
In the extreme tranquility of this haunting graveyard.
And its power is one with me
As the spirits dance to my radiating light of peace.
In this timeless place of erotic pleasure, I feel at home...
Amongst my friends... and I find the truest peace of mind.
Azrael sends my name upon the whispers of the wind...
Lord Dellamort
é
March 1997
Untitled
Where were you
When the spirits of the dark world
Were calling to me from the
Chilling darkness of the mystical night?
Why were you not by my side
When my feelings for you were so strong?
Leaving me so alone to cry
Tears of sadness that glistened in the
Frail fingers of the moonlight
That set so heavily upon my darkening face.
Why had you left me so alone...
What was it that I had done?
Does the same moon shine down upon your familiar features...
So distant to me in this sad time...
Lord Dellamorté
September 20, 1994
The Weary Wanderer
The weary wanderer wanders on,
He knows not where he goes.
When it rains or when it snows,
When it's nice, or when the heavy wind blows.
He walks for all time,
Seeing people talking in mime.
He knows not where he wanders,
He knows that he does not care.
In the fire winds of a dead land
He rides the Sacred White mare.
And why, you ask him, but he cannot tell.
For all eternity he walks this flame-thrown land.
So when you pass a church and hear the toll of the bell,
Lend an ear, and you too can hear
The weary wanderer, screaming, as he wanders through Hell.
Lord Dellamorté
April 30, 1986
Age 15
When Love grows Scarce
As I look towards Pikes Peak,
I see the girl I wish to seek.
Beautiful eyes and flowing brown hair.
I love her, but what does she care?
I wish she loved me,
I wish she knew I existed,
I wish she would see,
Nobody loves her more than me.
I long to hold her in my arms,
When the night is cold and the fire burns low.
The night is dark and down comes the snow.
But alone I sit, alone once more.
Lord Dellamorté
October 22, 1985
Age 14
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