~Beyond the Door~

He stood before the door, trying to pretend he wasn’t trembling. Telling himself he was stronger than that.

He knew what lay beyond the door. The end of this journey, of this ordeal. Whatever that would mean for him. He had to confront it, no matter what.

He told himself to open it, open the door, and get it over with. Yet every time he willed himself to do it, his courage failed. He knew what lay beyond the door, but he didn’t know what would become of him when he stepped through it.

He owed it to everyone whose lives had been lost during this struggle to defeat the forces, and their agents, who had wreaked such destruction. He owed it to himself, to avenge himself on the one who had betrayed him and so many others, betrayed him and left him for dead. The one he had trusted and admired more than anyone else.

But could he do it? Could he succeed, against those who had so nearly defeated him, who had killed so many others? He knew that once he opened that door, once he stepped across the threshold, there would be no returning. From there on, he would have no choice but to accomplish his goal. And if he failed…

If he failed, he would either die for it, or…or he would end up like them. Twisted, corrupt, treacherous, completely self-serving, utterly without a moral compass. Evil.

He reached forward, resting his hand on the door handle. He was already past the point of no return, and deep down, he knew it. He could never live with himself if he went back now, even though he must go forward into hell itself.

My heart is pure, he told himself. Evil has no place within it.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the handle and pulled. He opened the door, the massive, heavy, iron-bound wooden door, and stepped into the darkness.

He was ready for the final battle.

Inspired by Schapelle Corby's story
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schapelle_Corby

I believe in her innocence

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My Space My Stuff

Mom left the house tonight.
Left with your father, and the television set.

You’re overcome,
And overwhelmed with fright…

‘Cause this old man is open,
To an old dark fetish…

And he’s not your father tonight…

***
The open door,
Lets in the light.

Through the dark damp corners,
Of your sore, damp eyes…

Painfully, you wail and cry.

You’d slam the door,
But the door,
Is in your old man’s grasp;
And lust burns behind his eyes…
***

Mom came home at little past eight.
Locked up; turned off the TV…

She wonders sometimes,
Why her daughter’s unhappy…

And wondering,
Drifts off to sleep…

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Voodoo Play time


bound by stitches,
nine and then three,
made to bring on the death,
that she wants to be.

my hands are bare,
my hair is thin,
clothing not necessary,
unless your fetish is skin.

needles dance before me,
her knives shine the dark,
down into my bead eyes,
before they make their mark.

my magick springs quick,
it leaves my battered thread,
and brings swift death,
making her wrists red.

she stabs again,
and lets out the darkness in me,
the wound punctures the stomach,
of that who used to be.

she tosses me to the ground,
and steps on the face,
of the person,
whom caused her disgrace.

and far away,
only three doors down,
a woman lays motionless,
her blood staining her white gown.

the witch laughs and smiles,
as she picks me up again,
and kisses my forehead,
and puts me in my den.

she lights a flame,
the tempest dances under me,
hoping and willing,
to let the magick free.

and three doors away,
a body cripples in the flame,
and turns to ashes,
and i do the same.

she lights a black candle,
and wisps the incense in the air,
and lets out the evil karma,
leaving her skin burned and bare.

the black basement,
ablaze in the flame,
dancing in the night,
as she calls out her enemies name.

the spirit summoned,
glares into the night,
evanescent tears on her face,
never to see the light.

locked in a box,
and tossed in the waves,
forever she will stay,
in Poseidon's dark caves.

and the witch will live,
and she will die,
and find peace in the after life,
her final tie.

i deliver pain,
and good grace,
depending on the circumstance,
and the angered mace.

forsake me not,
and those who will dare,
to practice my dance,
for you forsake a nightmare.

revenge is sweet,
as sweet as me,
fornicate with death,
my kiss is deadly.

I open doors,
to slam in your face,
the ugliest little thing,
you'll ever find wrapped in lace.

But i promise you,
one day,
maybe not so far away,
you'll need me,
crave me,
and when you come for me,
I'll be here waiting,
Silently,
Nothing ever lasts in my world.

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~A flower that hides its Petals, never blooms.~
~OLI NEEDS TO COME OUT OF THE CLOSET RIGHT NOW~

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Come join!

All my life I had known him to be gruff
He was hard to read and stubborn
Full of pride and head-strong, he was tough on me
I can't say that there weren't times that he frightened me
I loved him, and I had heard that he loved me too
It certainly was never very evident

As I walked down the hall something caught my attention
Though only open a crack, I peered through the door
My eyes set on something foreign and the sight stole my breath
He was there, head bowed and knees bent
I heard him praying, open and vulnerable
Though feeling the need to look away I was drawn in by his words
He spoke of his sorrows, his sins, and his shortcomings
And then he shared his blessings

I learned his secret that day, the one that changed my life

I was always his one true blessing

I will keep his secret safely and cherish it daily, and never let on to what I saw behind the open door

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All that I have done is keeping me from you...

“We expect our lives to be happy, trouble free and victorious. We forget that victories come only after we fight battles.”

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go. Things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right. You believe lies so you eventually learn to trust noone but yourself. And sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."
— Marilyn Monroe

I don't know anymore
what I must do
or what must be done.

If someone could see just how hard
I've tried to be strong...
then maybe it wouldn't matter so much
that I failed.
In this meaningless existence I see,
through this raining of tears,
my heart's flying hopes ending miserably.

In the end, it seems,
I have only become the person
I did not want to be.
The one that can only hurt
those she loves,
and never protect them
from herself.

Now it must change,
that's how it should be;
no matter how much it will hurt me.
I'm tired of hating myself.
If I could go down
with my last shred of self-worth,
then that's good enough for me.

I'm sorry.

The last thing I wanted to do was harm anyone.
My soul is having difficulty
battling another ugliness of herself
away.

I'm sorry.

You especially did not deserve any of this.
You gave me nothing but kindness,
nothing but wonder, hope and love.
And though I love you
beyond any means that you know,
I did not deserve all you unselfishly gave me.
The last thing I wanted to do was harm You.

I open the one door that I am good enough for -
leading me into such submerged,
horrific darkness.

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could make me love you less...

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...the children of chernobyl...

one for blurred identity:

who am i?
whats my purpose?
are you there?
is anyone there?
i dont have a name,
i dont have a reason,
i just am....

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amo-te para sempre carla
http://www.evboard.com/showthread.php?t=31607 please check my art