#1
Someone falls to a slug in a factory,
caught in the bullet’s trajectory.
She fell to the ground
and spilled her blood on the wall.
Her named signed in macabre calligraphy.
Below the Earth, a creature smiled.
Above the sky, a harpist cried.

We feel a tug, minute in its power,
pulling at the cords within us,
dragging us away to somewhere foreign,
a place of danger, of drugs, of death.
The sigh of a terminal breath
broken by the unspoken words.
I’ll miss you.

Time takes a momentary pause of memoriam
before counting down to extinction once more.
Mistletoe clings desperately to the beam of wood
as a man with goodness in his heart
shares a kiss with the woman of my dreams;
literally, she doesn’t exist, not any more.

No worse time to lose someone
than the time of year to be together.
Carving that name into the mind,
the black of this frail state.
Hear the voice from far away,
lilting and dying in the sharp air
as it tries to comfort;
I love you.

So this is Christmas.
Celebrating a birth, we forget about death.
Death observes no festivals,
no trivialities of humanity or compassion.
Ruthless, barbaric, unbiased and fair.
Pass the mistletoe and wine,
the cold is tingling this spine of mine.
#2
That was cool as shit man. I like your style. Check out https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=1240592 and let me know what you think of those lyrics.

Time takes a momentary pause of memoriam
before counting down to extinction once more.
Mistletoe clings desperately to the beam of wood
as a man with goodness in his heart
shares a kiss with the woman of my dreams;
literally, she doesn’t exist, not any more.


That's my favorite stanza, I love it.
#4
Quote by Dæmönika

Someone falls to a slug in a factory,
caught in the bullet’s trajectory.
She fell to the ground
and spilled her blood on the wall.
Her named signed in macabre calligraphy.
Below the Earth, a creature smiled.
Above the sky, a harpist cried.
I like everything up until the last lines. I feel like the don't add anything to the piece and are just there.

We feel a tug, minute in its power,
pulling at the cords within us,
dragging us away to somewhere foreign,
a place of danger, of drugs, of death.
The sigh of a terminal breath
broken by the unspoken words.
I’ll miss you.
love this.

Time takes a momentary pause of memoriam
before counting down to extinction once more.
Mistletoe clings desperately to the beam of wood
as a man with goodness in his heart
shares a kiss with the woman of my dreams;
literally, she doesn’t exist, not any more.
the last line, again, doesn't bring anything to the piece;you already said she doesn't exist.

No worse time to lose someone
than the time of year to be together.
Carving that name into the mind,
the black of this frail state.
Hear the voice from far away,
lilting and dying in the sharp air
as it tries to comfort;
I love you.
I like this bit, but the last line disrupts the flow for me, mainly because you've already insinuated that you love her.

So this is Christmas.
Celebrating a birth, we forget about death.
Death observes no festivals,
no trivialities of humanity or compassion.
Ruthless, barbaric, unbiased and fair.
Pass the mistletoe and wine,
the cold is tingling this spine of mine.
beautiful. the first line could be changed, but I'm apathetic towards it.


Overall, this is a very, very well written piece. One revision and it'd be amazing.
#5
Only you could put such a sick twist on Christmas. And pull it off. This is fantastic.