Gothica Dharqe Knight's blog: "poetry"

Dusk has risen and I arise from my grave in the darkness there is beauty all to save Fog covers the stones the moon full for this night it is abound still, I take a look at myself, and notice there another link was added to my chain for all to bare No mistress of this night, no one to give the order so for this night i take the flight For my hunger needs to be satisfied for darkest delight Whom shall i find who shall my victim be Who wishes for the darkness and truelly see for when i find the one who will satisfy my hunger this night all passion will be her delight while i feed on blood so pure For my hunger stirs and craves still who will offer themselves to me who wishes for all the delight endlessly in this night we shall feel what passions of the night bring what fire must stir

Staring back from the abyss where i see my life How can i say that I liked myself not even sure why Concerned of matters that are only skin deep feeling the depths that one must take, feeling myself tumbling back into the depths, where loneliness is its only bliss, feeling no love no rapture, only pain, feeling my brain slowly going into the depths of insane, pulling on the cord that ties me to, looking for help looking for who, I climb stretch and climb back from hells embrace feeling all the tentacles wanting to pull me down, feeling them tear into my flesh, warping my brain, dragging me down, More I climb out of the depths, more pain by inches but still i endure, the light overhead, I see so far away, no such pain in all to gain, Torments in my mind, laughter holding true, am I to fat, to soft, to gentle still? seeing the light i know that in time, I shall climb back from the abyss of the mind, will there be anyone at the top willing to help me? over the edge or to send me back to the depths for all eternity

A good friend of mine, Byron, known also in the performance community as Lord Byron, was attacked by two men outside of his home after walking back from an event Friday night. This unprovoked assault led to a night in the hospital for Byron, who returned home on Saturday to recover from a concussion. Byron's home is not so far away from mine; his neighborhood populated with many other residences. Byron is a beautiful dancer, performer, belly dancer, and active in many events with Gothic Maine, as well as Vivid Motion. His is also been a very important person to me for a long time now; I have always been thankful for his friendship. So when I was told that he was injured for no other reason because he is gay I felt heart-sick and confused. Isn't Portland supposed to be one of the biggest supporting cities for gays and lesbians? How could this have happened to this gentle, creative friend and neighbor? Will it happen again?!? Myself, my roommate, and many other friends walk alone late at night through our home city; I'd never felt threatened or unsafe before. Now we're being cautioned not to walk home alone, as many of us are very active in what people consider "alternative lifestyles." Suddenly home seems a lot less homey. This event did not happen somewhere else, to someone else, in a large crime-riddled city; this happened here, to a friend, in my community--and if you're reading this probably in yours as well. Not because you live in Portland, though most of my contacts on this list are local, but because anywhere, and EVERYWHERE, you hear stories about discrimination, racism, and intolerance. Every time a fundamentalist screams about damnation; every time a pagan goes on a Christian-bashing tirade; every time a person is yelled at, attacked, or worse because of their culture, religion, or lifestyle--this is fucking intolerance people. We see it every day, we hear it every day. And now, it's become a very real issue for someone that I care about. Was this reported in the local newspaper? Probably not; I looked through the Portland Press Herald online and didn't find anything mentioning the disgusting behavior of the two men who have gained nothing but the contempt of an entire community. Will awareness of the crimes that are happening in our lives, and in our neighbors lives, make a difference. Yes; because our local environment, our local-culture, our co-habitors and our city needs to know that we are NOT just strangers, that this effects living, loving, people, and that this situation can not be ignored. There is not one person I have spoken to who knows Byron that is not outraged by this event. We want these criminals caught; we do not want to see another friend in the hospital. I am guilty of being lost in my own world, and less aware of my community that I live in. Not just my little gothic community but the homes and the people and the city that I live within. I realize that I can't not care what happens to others around me, because human beings are connected to each other. This horrible incident is sadly not the first of tragedies that have happened in Portland recently; and I'm saddened even more to think it won't be the last. I'm not a number and my friends aren't statistics. It's cold to say "one out of five people will become the victim of a hate-crime" because you always think, "Well, I'll be one out of the remaining four." This is a lie; if one person out of five is a victim, one of the other four is the aggressor, and all of the other three are affected by this spreading hatred.

when ones soul dies it is taken far away to a dark realm of pain and suffering never to see the light of day where the soul rests in torment and pain never to feel the lovers embrace for it would never be the same in the time to come once can call that soul back from its depths for evening of delight if one knows the way to guide it to the light passion to fire love to blaze for one true passion is to simply to gaze for this soul knows no light it only feels pain in darkness and sorrow to watch from afar for passions flame

In the night people pass me here in there Without reason or a care They go on there lives happy and free Exploring there pleasures as they be Moonlight strikes my face and I wonder why where is this for me and try not to cry Pass the graveyard gates and off to the night knowing that this dark heart will never feel loves bite

grave in the night a scary site i lay here thinking what my life has seen i wonder if there is anything left to dream black roses line my way to deaths door anyway wondering if there is anyone that will remember me as i decay here broken hearted we shall see friends go on loves tend to die but does anyone ever questions why im laying here with black roses by my side no true love touch on my final ride any mourners would any cry when the reapers touch told me i was to die black roses here to keep me company black roses for all eternity

why is it that it always seams that people are looking for statues for them to please rippled chests and little brains and knowing that all it brings is pain where in the darkness there are people like me that walk the earth eternally to bring nightly delights that some cant stand we are no different then the statues bland a little darker, a bit unsure not as rippled but thoughts of pure rose as black as night marks our paths to nightly pleasure and ghostly deaths

Fangs of pleasure fangs of pain whose to say what is there to gain drinking the source of the pleasure still bringing my power to fullfill what i give to her is power beyond site as she gives me earthly delight in this night i feed to survive if only to feel once again alive

Darkness consumes the light My wings take air for this flight to find desires that i behold to see what to find what to hold who shall be there looking out for me who shall this nights sacrifice to be will she offer herself to this creature of the night will she beg for pure nightly delight and when i arrive will she be waiting for me on her knees waiting to please on this night i search the sky with out a care and wonder why when will this darkness that consumes me bring the delight and pleasures to thee