Lord Gothington-Bloodworst's Poetry Of The Damned

my blackened soul bastards making fun of the tortured anguish and longing my soul resides in presently, burning and yearning with more really bad Shakespearean-esque bullshit. oh my beleagured love, unkowing as to the depths of my blackened soul's black blackness, which is black, much like the blackened embers of the blackness that is left over after i have ascrificed my blackened heart to the blackness. yea, even the blackness envelopes me more comfortingly than the woman i love, who knows not of me, nor of my blackness, but of the simple black that blackens the black blackening of my blackened soul. and my parents suck and i want to die. die in blackness. black. woooooooooooooooooooooo. black. © 2003 Lord Gothington-Bloodworst

Well, I figure for this to be taken seriously as a blog I should probably do something like this eventually.