Illustration Thesis

Serenade of EnvyThe cold blanket of deceitful fog
breathes, kisses, your shoulders.
Humid, suffocating, it drowns the mind;
lungs, slowly crushed by boulders.Its whisper coaxes the soul to confess,
and convinces it to twist what's true.
“Don't you want what they possess?
Poor thing, why can't that be you?”Icy mist clutches, presses on the neck,
its bow glides across tendons savagely.
Melodies rise, leaves your throat a wreck,
“I don't understand… why can't that be me?!”Thus a seed of covetousness incites a war,
its thorns sting the flesh from inside,
the acidity of its poison eats at the core,
the freedom of rationality it denies.Covet into hate, hate into obsession,
obsession pushes away and leaves one alone.
It's no use chaining hate with repression
when the thorns are severely overgrown.And before the mind knows it's been betrayed,
veins left crooked from being overplayed,
your ribcage's hollow sound rings,
for a massacre the Sin of Envy brings.
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Illustration: Deceiving Chords

Queen's RoseMy treasured unbreakable devotee,
without hesitation, promise to me
with those cursed lips, “Yes, your highness,”
for none shall break this dance of slyness.My blade, my sword, that is what you are,
eyes of certainty, and hands that mar,
this saviour of mine seems to exist as myth,
a servant and force not to be reckoned with.Evergreen eyes, seen loves extinguish,
unseen as a human, lived in anguish,
enlist as petty orphan, promoted
to a mere number, your life devoted.“Sixty seven, soldier number sixty seven”,
she earns a reputation destined for heaven.
A godly throne in skies above, nay, not for good deeds,
but for a soldier’s life expectancy she exceeds.But… I saw her, she was not a number,
she could not be, in her soul I saw fear.
Though, yes, she puts unease to slumber,
she was human…that to me was clear.As we passed, I asked her for her name,
she looked up, in her eyes lit a flame,
after pondering, there came a hesitant “Rose”,
ah…her objectification shall come to a close.Months passed, away the warrior had been dispatched,
for the Land’s outer relations had she assured.
In her return, her mare's girth was secured,
traveling bags from the worn saddle were unlatched.Reported to her station, handed her documents in,
only to be greeted with news that made her head spin.
My Mother, the Queen, Guider of All,
upon her rested soul did a murderous sin befall.Alas, not just that, for the People had started to speak,
rumors of my corruption, things had started to look bleak.
I merely wished for my People’s safety, I truly believed it.
“No more lies nor deceit…” to her I committed.Fear to paranoia, protection to elimination,
a Princess to a Queen, and a number to trust.
But we were accused of lack of compassion,
as whispers arose of my acts being unjust.I merely wished to make things safe once more,
for my fear wasn’t something to ignore.
I had reasons but the people wouldn’t understand,
seeing loved ones murdered first-hand!Living with the scars that littered our minds and flesh,
she my blade, I her healer, our trust made afresh.
Flashbacks of Mother’s assassination felt like a plague,
but her words brought paranoia to ease, nothing was left vague.Sacrifices were made to ensure safety,
“No lies nor deceit,” became our priority.
T’was all for the Kingdom, but it knew nothing of our morality.
T’was all for my People, but they only spoke of our brutality.Dissent meets with consequence,
this left, for a while, a shroud of silence.
Even with oppositions dwindling,
the Kingdom grew cold and unsettling.My Rose and I, we had thought we were…unstoppable,
thought safety was certain, that harm was impossible.
Yet in the new moon’s dusky somber veil,
an ambush proved to us that we had failed.My Rose, she lay in rest by my side,
heard my muffled screams and cries.
My neck clutched in the murderer's thrall,
she turned to protect, and I turned into her downfall.A silver edge plunged through her chest,
Rose’s red bloomed in weeping hue,
petals bled, as she cried her only request,
“Please! Don’t you leave me too!”We… had finally been caught defenceless…
Into the warmth, the coldness of a blade impaled,
our murderers looked at us with frigid eyes of malice,
and the bearer of my keys took her final exhale.My glassy eyes smiled at the irreplaceable,
“Rose, thank you, for being beside me,
treasured…unbreakable…
…devotee.”
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Illustration: Fated Downfall

Poison FruitForgive me for my aloofness,
My sudden lack of tongue,
It had been melted into nothingness
When my puppet strings were strung.I n....r w...... it.
The me....ory of that......t.By my own hand,
Putrid poison stained my lips,
Seared by a voiceless brand;
Salvation ignored my blackened fingertips.I n....ver wanted.....t...s.
That memory of that....accursed fr...uit.I didn't mean to be farouche,
it wasn't in my nature,
But from a young age I had deduced,
that under torture's hooves remains a crater.I never...wanted this,
The memory...of that bedevilled fruit.Still...the nubilous mist,
The scent of that poison fruit,
one I've been trying to resist,
Had left me forever mute.
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Illustration: The Saint I Trusted

Misumena VatiaThe shackles of a reaching heart
wish for the memory of a heated mark,
O how your simple touch could devastate
this overgrown soul your ghost asphyxiates.Under false petals lies a forbidden fruit,
with eight pale limbs lying in passive pursuit.
Craving His hollow pollen to baptize,
my hunger ultimately brings my bitter demise.Cold fangs twist into the tender seed,
quivering tears the pain bleeds.
It pulls desperation from the throat,
a crumbling voice the dread chokes.Apathy, betrayed by your hesitant gaze,
strikes a frigid shard that blossoms ablaze.
Pain into pleasure depends on the dose,
a breath is only warm when it finally comes close.
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Illustration: Succumb to the Betrayer

Falling off Death's CliffYou sat upon your throne, pretending,
forced your mind into your self-made confines.
Sat upon submissive bodies, ascending,
looking away from the blood that soiled your shrines.You don't see; your sand begins to run thin
as the Devil tugs your chains taut.
You hesitate as you glimpse Death's grin,
“Was pride and revenge worth such cost?”A bead of heated salt cradles the jaw
as you remember the taint of childhood.
Your mind is forever haunted by missing jigsaws,
pieces scattered where your mind's self stood.Like a used toy, off her cliff you are tossed,
the Devil mocks and challenges her prey,
“Was pride and revenge worth such cost?”
You glare into Death's eyes and say,“Yes.”
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Illustration: Crown's Penitence

The Grieving VesselThe figure tangled in his limbs
Could no longer listen to his meaningless whims.
Unstable phrases and unmade promises,
His wasted breaths bound like tightening harnesses.The beating fist encased in the prison of his chest
Did nothing for the tears and the corpse he wrest,
His words spoken through droplets that distort,
like twisting vines clinging on for support.Sinking teeth into the fruit of his body
will only expose a rotten core,
His weak words whimper oddly;
a desire for closure taunts him forevermore.Needles and claws shred
the petals shattered in his flower bed.
He's learned that nothing will bloom
from the liquid salt and drying tombs.Mist from his lungs ghosts across
the lonesome stone embraced by kind moss.
It escapes him as a feeble apology,
a last caress to their time's anthology.His shoulders crumble from the anchor within his core,
bones vibrate from the bells ringing ashore.
He shall be swept away, as this fight cannot be won,
For the confines that suffocate will never be undone.And the lies he's sewn into broken skin,
the truths he hides within,
soon meld in currents of false belief,
muffled voices suffocating past grief.
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Illustration: Disciple's Sentence

King Jones of the SeaChildren of an unfamiliar womb,
O Spirit, hear their cries of repentance,
encased within this curs’d watery tomb,
pardon lost, seeking souls from your vengeance.
The old moon above in blanketed night,
peaceful lulling of the sea’s soothing sigh,
crewmen unaware of the Devil’s smite,
awakened by the King’s commanding cry.
His whip of lightning cracks upon the hull,
thrusting waves melt into icy gallows,
debris blasts into the sinning shepherd's skull,
choked cries stolen by unforgiving shadows.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHis sinking souls of forsaken prosper,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤalas, claimed, embraced by Davy Jones’ Locker.
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Illustration: Sovereign's Cradle

Rabbit HunterRun, rabbit, run,
Don't let the hunter catch you with his gun,
These hours could feel unforgiving,
Yet, aren't they hours you're reliving?ㅤㅤㅤㅤI fear the hunter's eyes,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHis hand will surely bring my demise.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤMy mind I would constantly berate,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤI must have been the cause of this fate.Don't be ridiculous to think,
Those sins you committed wouldn't sink,
Guilt stains skin and crawls into flesh,
Inner walls mangled by its thrash.ㅤㅤㅤㅤI squeeze through the rough cracks,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤA pink diluted path forms in my tracks,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe crunch of snow against hard ice,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤI feel my time has come to pay the price.The rabbit hides itself in a frigid chamber,
And glancing at the icy walls of the glacier,
Red blossom painting its reflection,
It comes to a dreaded realisation.ㅤㅤㅤㅤA hunter that I couldn't outrun,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe one sure to leave me undone,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThat predator I failed to foresee,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHad always been me.
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Illustration: Facade's Torture