“Livid Hell”

Just some spontaneous aberration drawn from recent experiences. It’s not as grim as it sounds, though I should not enforce my perspective.

Have a read.

“Livid Hell”

In solitude, the pale one dwells,
‘Neath the shifting crimson heaven,
Weaving in the blackest hells –
Songs that twist and shine and deafen.

Thirstful sour sickly soil
Spans for long and awful miles;
Laughing is the hardest toil
When one resides in stolen smiles.

Voices brought by inching breeze
Breed but barren lustful doubt;
They mock and slander and they tease,
Yet, one can never do without.

From disorder, whispers crawl –
“I will be forever here,
Grasping at the nearing fall;
Et je ne peux pas mourir.”

This entry was posted in "Poems".

2 comments on ““Livid Hell”

  1. Betty says:

    Made me think of the Three Fates, weaving the threads of human destiny, for some reason.


    • Morvarth says:

      A valid interpretation! Not far from the original core of the text, now that I think about it. The idea was to suggest that we’re all instrumental to our own misery. At times, people dwell in so much negativity that they fail pathetically to understand and receive the help that is offered.


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