The following is a poem by Amy Bells and me. Every first stanza is mine, every second stanza is hers.

I found myself a dying sun,
I lay ashore, all mem’ries gone,
Beneath a sky of crimson clay,
Where every world spends its last day.

The dusty sand beneath my form
I used to love looks so forlorn.
The waves crash down with energy
They do not wish to share with me.

I am tired of it all,
Sick to death, I take the fall
Down into the void, abyss,
Without parting glass or kiss.

You will not find me here tomorrow,
I have drowned myself in sorrow,
The bleakest darkness of my past
Swells in the distance like a mast.

I shall not parish, all the same,
Your world is evil and insane,
Yet I shall rise again at last,
While you’ll be buried in the past.


Quite establish’d, well ignited,
Red with Wine and all delighted,
Fed and bred and well embrac’d,
Publicly denounc’d, disgrac’d.

Scandalous, in Rags, with Drugs,
Media Stamp upon them: ‘Sluts’,
Interviews, Books, Films, and Rage,
Dead and buried in the Grave.

No Hope in Hell

There is not a hope in hell,
Since hell does not exist.
There is no place for gods to dwell,
Just smoke and mirrors, mist.

The blind seek shelter in the night,
In mysteries of old.
The unexplained is their delight,
Thus, sceptics they will scold.

But reason cannot be undone,
And truth shall yet prevail.
Religion will be dead and gone,
And science be our sail.

Withered Heart

The rivers of bitterness run through my veins,
A nightmare of hatred, regret, and disdain,
Begotten by lies and betrayal of trust,
A dream meant to rot in the dirt and the dust.


I looked you up and down in pieces,
Shivering anopheles,
Beneath the unbridged water nieces,
Yonder in the pale blood seas.

Why did you wake me from my slumber,
Hiding, resting, falling? – Steep.
I sacrificed myself, succumbed to
Darkness where the angels weep.

Lies and Death

Oh so fragile, always been,
the life that runs through living things,
cut and spilt, both dead and gone,
beyond all questions all along.

Reverence is among those lies
that liars tell a man who dies;
lies, however, keep alive
a liar’s breath and poisoned mind.

Earth and sun and moon are red,
drowned in sorrow, fear, and dread,
populated by the dead
that suck the life they never had.