Soliel noir, Ciel rouge

A city of pleasure a city of sin and twisting and bending through the nowhere within a lucidical nightmare in dreamtime it lies, a catalyst for all the screams and the cries     Broken wing Angels with thorn covered halos, the denizens of this forgotten of places. they sing their sad songs as they walk and they wander, solidifying all of those nightmares they ponder.     The prophetic souls living under the cold develop a universe yet to be sold. the most hideous of dreams and distorted of views, they conjure up blackness and fast fading blue.     Winding through the buildings the allies and roads, a race of unhumans whose story's untold. talking tongues of serpents, a language of lies, they live for the passion of nothing inside.     The blood velvet curtain envelopes the sky and blackness throughout keeps the city at night. Moving like it's burning, an endless disease, bloodletting the stars of thesehapless deceived.     Young demonic females whose beauty is stark parade in the nighttime and bathe in the dark. Devouring crimson, the intimate, sinners committing the ultimate sin.     One unhuman especially knows of their crimes yet consistently falls for the trap they designed. He knows he's a fool and he knows it's all lies but he lives for the lust in those passionate eyes.     And all the Angels and Prophets aside, and all the unhumans and demons divine, cast spells to the hells which created this place, this sadistic bliss and masochistic waste. A city of pleasure. A city of sin. Written October 16th, 2001 © on Oct 15 2001 09:07 PM PST   0 • 10