lain-ender
I'm an aspiring poet and writer. This is my obvious pen name. I'm kind of bizarre, I hope you enjoy. I hope I get published one day but if not its not the end of the world. I've found happiness in my words. To sum me up in one word, Shy. My haiku and a half's are supposed to be 24 syllables. / / ( only doing this because a friend suggested) Any poem posted on here is obviously written by me and should not be copied or sold or what not.
Shall I tell you of the beast I’m seen in my dreams
A strangeness vast and vile
For in the nights where Morpheus weeps
it visits me with vengeful smiles
I know I should no fear such things
Dark fancy found in far off sleep
But for months in haunts my nights repose
In my mind it seems to creep
But I fear my words will fail to paint
A picture of the beast most foul
They are strangers beyond nature
vile absurdities on the vengeful prowl
This beast that stalks my nightly terrors
has the face of any earthly dame
but there the similarities cease
for beneath the neck is a hideous frame
It spine seems to extend to unnatural length
As if it cobbled by perverse hand
and its spine is bare and profuse with strings
A strange sight in any natural land
It walks of four hand with fingers long and pale
Put two of them reach back in horror
And pluck the spinal strands and sings
I promise this is no dream laced error
Sings maybe to kind a word for this
But I lack a more right one
However as each notes rings out
its jaw becomes undone
Some nights I can stay far away
others it can taste its breath
this nightmare beast of unknown lands
perhaps is but a harbinger of death.
On those nights it draws so close
I see the strangeness in such clarity
Its skin is taught and knotted
and its sings with deft severity
That make me wonder If my days draw near
If its Opaled eyes as white as milk
Have come to whisk me far away
to a place of darkness with its phantom ilk
To land where madness chord is rung
where I will breath no longer
To silence of the Thantatos’s door
Or is this too dark to ponder
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
It feels so strange to look back on those days
The simple time when play was common
And laughs were but a word away
But in these last few years you have been so far
Past Charon's cold ravine , upon a cliff bathed in stars.
Each year I wonder, wish and dream.
That your memories of me were held serene
Tainted not by the crippling pain
The fights, the running, and secret shames
Filled witty banter and bizarre reprieves
Brother. How I've missed you so.
The years they creep and memories fade
Despite my love, my pleads to know
That in that wretched day of loss
Your heart was left unscathed
For in my cruelest darkest times
When my eyes started cold and glazed
Where leaving bed made atlas falter
When fear left me but a window's flight away
You smiled and shone the way
How many days went and came
With that scribble not upon your picture frame
Hoping for just one exchange
And promising I would take your place
Promising to take the pain
Despite all the things that I have wanted
All the times that I have missed
I'd tear this world asunder
Pull down the stars and blacken the sky
Just to see your crooked smile
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 12:56 AM UTC
If I handed you a Rose petal
What would you see?
The thought behind the effort
or the action so pristine?
Would you miss the other petals
their beauty never seen?
And what of the forgotten thorns
That pain you'll never feel?
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC
The flavor of the air is tense,
I am plagued in these unsafe streets.
They are hidden but I know they hunt me,
I can feel them tearing at my in most brain.
How many shots do I have?
I cannot remember when confronted with pure unmasked terror.
An ankh like shadow protrudes slightly
One bullet spent.
The pharaoh looking man dropped to the ground,
His curled fingers clutch his tools.
But he is dead with black blood dripping,
However it is still not safe.
I can hear the delicate footsteps,
they echo along the brick walls..
Calling ahead of the dainty voice,
that sings prayers of madness.
I lie in wait.
Maybe I can jump her,
**** her before she me,
Or maybe I am a fool.
She rounds the lit corner,
and drops her frail veil.
What a bloated beastly thing she becomes,
with tentacles flowing from her mouth.
Wandering close I wonder if she can smell me,
For I am drenched in the fear of all things.
This night is one of horrors,
The worst that Arkham ever offered.
As she bends down to my level,
Groaning as she meets me.
I shot before the tentacle could gather,
Around my fleshy throat.
I missed the fatal blow,
she took off at a giggling run into the night.
As I chased after her,
Horror found me once again.
This time it came as a dark skinned man,
with the hoofs of a beast.
My trembling gun in hand ,
He responded with a finger to his lips.
I began to waiver in my steadiness.
He smiled a wicked smile,
4 words floated through the air,
" The Dark Avatar is coming".
Courage resumed its timid grasp,
And I put a bullet in his gut.
It spilled open as he laughed,
A wry corrupting laugh.
Out of his stomach feel as shining jewel,
And out of it came a bat like beast .
Screaming chaos to the winds,
Cracking my heart and mind.
There flew the Haunter of the Night.
A Malicious creature of atrophy and leathery wings .
I shot again and again and again,
Until the last tick where no bullet fired.
As I back away from the circling monster,
I felt something slimy grab me from behind.
Constricting me till breathing became a luxury,
All faded and I lost track of the world.
I wake with the a foul breeze wafting over me
Above me stood a hunched and twisted figure.
From its mouth were a hundred teeth,
And a tongue drench in the reddest blood.
It dragged me along the ground,
To the darkest bend of the forest.
There I could hear chanting,
that held me tighter than this beast with a ****** tongue.
When We rounded the corner ,
I dug my bloodstained fingers into the moody ground.
It was to no avail however,
The figures round the fire were loomed ever closer
The fire played with their shadows is strange unearthly ways.
As they chanted praises to the crawling chaos.
Maniacs danced playing wilde flutes of bone,
And the dark priests turned to face me.
I was stripped and bound by ropes tied to posts,
A sacrifice of naked flesh.
Out of the Shadow of the flames loomed the form
The beast of thousand tattered minds,
The god of a thousand forms ,
My heart and mind both shattered .
And I was devoured wholly.
Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 7:20 PM UTC
Outside the window falls the summer snow.
Their lives held in a wistful dance,
Held in the winds careless grasp,
They seem almost trapped in a melancholy waltz.
Do they too dream of freedom,
Or do they have it all along?
For the summer snow is filled with the seeds of dreams.
Blown from their homes with childish ambition.
Though the wind may hold them at first
Those tiny dreamers decide to flourish and bloom
If they can be free,
Then can we?
Apr 20, 2012
Apr 20, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
Laying in the grassy field,
I wonder how it would be to paint the sky.
Using my many brushes to smear the canvas,
Making clouds of colored chaos,
Like paint that strays to far from the brush.
A skypainter who can lay beauty to the world,
Then simply lie back and smile.
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 4:53 PM UTC
Every day I sipped at inspirations golden cup,
And words just seemed to come to me.
The power of them filled my heart,
Making me feel so serene.
Then one day the cup fell empty,
Not a single drop would flow.
The words now faded, left me hopeless,
Like a wanderer lost in snow.
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 1:54 PM UTC
How ticks the ebony clock,
With its incessant back and forth?
There is no harmony in me,
The mirror tells me so itself.
Blank,
So blank,
The cold pale reflection of the nothing I embody.
I have found that its only when I smash the mirror that the real me appears.
Among the trickles of blood from my hand,
And the tens of glistening shards.
I see myself
Every me.
Not distortion,
The portion of me that can be seen.
I see every me that ever was reflecting on the floor.
Only by twisting and breaking the false self,
Can the real self be absolved.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 2:11 PM UTC
Tell me wistful wisteria,
Why do you shed those regal tears?
Is it for a fallen child,
A bud of love so dear?
Can you tell me violet crier,
Why flows your petaled pain?
Did you lose a lover?
Does it hurt to speak their name?
Or wisteria, darling tear stained one.
Is this glumness misconceived?
Does happiness reprieve just hold you,
and bring you to your wavering knees?
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 4:19 PM UTC
In the chair he played,
His muscles burned with his pain.
It was always constant,
The needless burning of his nerves.
Fingers curled he played,
There was enjoyment in the music.
It erased the pain and the sadness ,
The that the many scars of his nerves gave him.
Then he was gone
17 and gone in the last beat of the hearts
we cried happy birthday
But he wasn't the only one
What of the one teacher?
You helped him play through the pain,
While you yourself suffered,
How soon were you torn from us too?
Its all to soon.
You know their will be a final symphony,
they wont let you go without the notes.
draped on your shoulders like wings,
Angels of the band.
You both were pillars of strength,
And we all remember and sing and play.
For the good don't just die young,
They are set free of their suffering.
And we love you,
Let the symphony play.
I will cry for the man i barley knew,
For he helped the one I loved.
Feb 9, 2012
Feb 9, 2012 at 11:20 PM UTC