Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Once it was so ******* easy to connect.
We drifted as stranger's.
And now I a relic.
Stands part of something long forgotten.

Fueled by ego now drown in rejection they all leave you eventually.
Friends are nothing more than accidents waiting to happen I need only the critic to tell me I'm wrong to know something still is done right.

A theater of my thoughts tattered in a  part of town long since overlooked by others stands all the same as I still remain.

My pages worn beaten exist with as much passion as they did so long ago.

Fruits of my labor now rotten none wish to consume.
**** what you know!
For even I cannot understand whom I truly am.
Trace the lines there still mine just the same .

I listened to the fools laughter at my expense thinking I have lost what we never choose to behold.
The sleeping dog simply waits for the chase worth while than runs to
do something simply to spend time.

I never left I simply waited .

Time choses the fate and I simply fill in the blanks.
We forgot about the creatures
And of their horrifying features
How they seem to appear from the dark
Striking out at us, and leaving their mark

So, when you are walking alone tonight
You will feel the cold shiver of fright
You wonder, are thoughts of horror true?
Just remember, they are coming after you

You thought them unreal, they were fiction
In reality, terror has no restriction
Something is creeping, it is close by
It is ready to feed, the time has come to die

The screaming comes now, from all around
It is suddenly cut short, now there is no sound
From out of the darkness, figures appear
Suddenly, the beasts of the night are here
copyright Chris Smith 2010
This icy morning chills me
No warmth for my bones
Just frozen touches of misery
Wind like a Banshee moans

Bitter thoughts in my head
No one to ever tenderly want
For I am one with the undead
As this torment continues to haunt

If only love could come my way
Temptation to warm this soul
Someone to show hope this day
To allow my lost emotions flow
Copyright © Chris Smith 2010
He is watching me,
Through the dust stained window
With his evil pumpkin head
Lit with an eerie candle glow
The axe from the shed,
Glints within the moonlight
This is no nightmare,
No dream,
For the beads of sweat are cold
I fear the tapping at the door
Then suddenly smashed to pieces
He is here now,
In this room
Raising that axe above my head
I close my eyes and tremble
Because I have no time to scream
Copyright © Chris Smith 2012
I am the stranger outside
Watching you in the shower
The monster under your bed
When you're trying to sleep

I am the stalker in the shadows
When you're walking in the street
The fear on the dark corners
You know I'm waiting there

I am the nightmare at night
Those forbidden thoughts in your head
You try to make yourself resist
But you're a prisoner of my will

I am the coming *******
As you fall to your submission
The surrendering to completion
At last, you face exactly who I am
Copyright Chris Smith 2014
I come craving your soft touch

The kisses on my cold skin

The heat coming from your body

The desire inside I feel burning

I want to feed on your love



But I fear that I will betray you

Attempt to take more than you can give

Temptation to take all that I can

But my feelings are holding me back

I will not let you surrender to the dark



But I will feel your body next to mine

I will find comfort in your warm embrace

Feel these movements becoming one

Because I know when the dawn breaks through

I will be gone with the darkness of the night







copyright Chris Smith November 2009
They called him crazy, they called him mad
He got his axe and then he got very bad
The voices were always deep in his head
Telling him to chop, make them dead

Ten dead, newspapers called him a serial killer
They made a TV movie, quite a thriller
On chat shows about him they talked
So after them all he went and stalked

And they caught him that fatal day
Just as he was throwing the actors head away
Thought filling him with drugs he would be dreaming
They still had to take him away kicking and screaming
Can you feel this fear
Orchestrated by a tear
Made by a scared thought
Pushed by what the mind taught
Listen now to this trembling story
Illustrated by an apologetic sorry
Compacted by a mirror broken
Agony of those words never spoken
Time came when terror made a mark
Erupted to ignite this morbid spark
Darkness becomes a tad complicated
Copyright Chris Smith 2014
Hear this tale, my beauty
Of fear and forgotten legend
Of the terrors of the night
That will get you in the end

Do not venture out, after dark
You never know what is waiting there
Hiding away from you in secluded shadow
Ready to pounce like your worst nightmare

The killer is loose, roaming the streets
Looking for victims with his knife
You never want to bump into him
Because then it will cost you your life

Then there is the eyes of the vampire
Hypnotise you like the night sky
They will ****** you with a kiss
Then it is too late, as they drain you dry

A million eyes are out there, watching you
You shiver with a strange sound you hear
Something in the dark is reaching out
Coming to get you through your fear

So you have to run now, find somewhere safe
Find somewhere they are not going to see
But maybe I am hiding there in secret
So now you must beware, and look out for me
copyright Chris Smith 2010
As night silently creeps
For the world still sleeps
Relaxing for some other day
And nightmare comes this way
Installing fear within the mind
Dread is a rope used to bind

Only darkness makes it call
Fixing terror for one and all

Distilling horrors yet to unfold
A cold sweat will now take hold
Ready to open up the gates of Hell
Kindred demons released by a spell
Now cast by unearthly creatures
Every one with ghastly features
So dream on and you will never see
Strange beasts that are not meant to be
Copyright Chris Smith 2014
Heed this poem of darkest days
Hide yourself when Nightmare plays
When you know, those shadows wait
Time runs out, and it is too late

Tears of fire are burning your cheeks
Forbidden secrets that grimly seeks
Draining your life, leaving you dry
Where there is no sound to cry

When blackened terror comes knocking your door
Leaving you empty, and pleading for more
But this emptiness surrounds you
This desperation confounds you

The icy touch of fear in your head
You listen to voices of lingering dead
Haunting you now, in so many ways
Heed this poem of darkest days
copyright Chris Smith 2010-
Next page