Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Sep 2014 · 472
Crusher.
Drew Renquest Sep 2014
I saw it, them kiss.
It intoxicated me, fueled me.
The pit sank and my smile grew as I felt the heat spread.
Out of my eyes and into her body it started to bend into the fibers.
I could feel it, the throat peeling off it's char from the painless flame. It slithered up further into the false passion that she was swimming in, swallowing and searing along the way. A silent scream was made but not heard. Their lips seared as the flame made it's final conquest.
Smile faded, but happiness achieved . I take their heads, bonded by sealed lips in a temporary lust forever. Staring at each other in agony until the dirt rotted around their filthy skulls.
Sep 2014 · 577
Self-acclaimed Hell.
Drew Renquest Sep 2014
This gloom forever bleeding from a puncture-less wound drowns me in blood inside-out. I swallow the insanity and poison myself again just to feel like time is sinking in. Legs growing weaker and walls getting bleaker these stumps cannot take one more step. It's blooming it's screaming it's dying this spirit inside. It can only feast on the inner flesh for so long before it refuses to dine. The fire scorches fueled of hate, blinding me and taking its course. My thoughts cannot reach it, it's far too late. I can't even hear myself think. Smell of smoke and sounds of familiar muffled voices remind of this newly become home. They mumble out "burn it down, let me out"
Mar 2014 · 694
Abomination.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Sparkling fauna emerald green, organic lifeblood bleeds.

Molten blasting magma screams, brimstone preacher speaks.

Freezing water frigid creeps, Poseidon's clarion shrieks.

Blackness, ******, human greed; Gaea's suffering.



Corrupted souls, riddled with filth. Void of empathy and guilt.

Crossed with fate, blind with hate. Tear the fibers, desecrate.

Unholy thoughts to Hell dedicate, quickened pulse, frightened rate.

Can't run away, horrid dreams mutate. Steel fangs in neck with death's weight.



Child of stars and moon, watercolor streak crystalline.

Metal mind fragment, bristling tesla machine. Lightning-blue bloodstreams.

Twisted man's being, child of nothing. Made hellish and free.

Stitched visage shows war-torn beast, ghastly and crazed, shivering bleak freak.



Corpulent avarice, altered being, raised to moonlight, stricken, striking.

Drained by bloodletting, desiccated. Once live and free but now ill-fated.

Skin like armor, baneful valor. Built to survive and smother the cowards.

Towering servant to the unholy knave. Servant to the call of the endless grave.
Another beautiful piece by my brilliant-minded husband.
Mar 2014 · 430
Hinrichtung.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
A brush melds with canvas,

    releasing feelings so long oppressed.

    a ****** mess, a haunting duress, nature's caress…

A painting so vivid, lust for adventure intrepid,

    rushing streams, ambience in earful,

    why can't life be this beautiful?

Musicians play, painters paint,

    a journey to alternate reality so faint.

Escaping pollution and worldly restraint

    body and soul become twain,

    imagining what could have been.

Nature's figure, flawless, uncorrupted

Death, anointed and serene,

    portrayed in cascades, dissonant,

    by the marionette of dreams.
This is something that my husband wrote. I love his creativity, hope you all like.
Mar 2014 · 324
Little House.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Stature and sturdy I stand. Firm and impervious to harm. Windows gazing at you from afar, heckling at my presence. Have I ever been cold, ever discomfort you? To every discomfort a laugh in return. Drunken stutter of footsteps shove onto the polished wood, before beautiful to the touch. Now trampled and beaten. Scraping the walls with your bitter hands, the paint thins. Exposing frame and withering of beauty, you despise your home.



Rebuilding and painting over the rips. Temporary happiness befriends a façade. I settle and sit, content at last, to feel a sharp scorch at my back. I’ve been set ablaze to find a dead match in your palm. A dissatisfied smile you wear with pride. To bring you happiness is to watch me fall, so I crumble with delight, only to feel plaster being slapped at me again. The walls become nothing but old paint, discolored and frail, and weak mold. Of what used to be so whole and warm, the cold halls have no memory.



Doors sealed and blinds shut, not even sunlight has greeted these corridors. To build then to burn brings you pleasure. The attic still lays untouched. Warm walls and the scent of life still alive to where you didn’t know. A neighbor you find, having more appeal to your toxic eye. Her walls still fresh with new paint. You pack your matches and drink your malice. She welcomes you to see your false innocence. The key still so effortlessly left under the doormat, **I can still smell the burned oak.
Mar 2014 · 277
Road of Old.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Sun falling through clouds, breaking the day. Singeing the innocent bystanders that shield you from the gray. Eyes roll back to the uncontrolled world. On your heart lay your hand, fingernails engraved with stories of old. How the red seeps from the sad crease, how you fell for her second face. So easily mislead, trust always falling out of your pocket. Tucking it so deep that the seams rip. To reach but not to find, her hands are stained but she wears a smile. Palm carry nothing but old blood and regret. Wash away with your tears and walk the road. She'll be waiting at the tide, her nails telling of the same story that someone once lied.
Mar 2014 · 410
Rain Drop Reminiscence.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Sun's warm embrace, rock me into a familiar slumber. Making the memories come out of the cold, branding back into my flesh once more. Swing set swing, mockingbird scream, oh how we used to sing. Flushed away with an echo of your calling voice, here comes the rain. God's hand couldn't shield from the droplets, falling onto my face reminding me of what used to be. A laugh off in the distance, ever so faint but one of my own. I can't hear you dear sister, so I venture closer. Opening the gate find crouched, the small hand.
Rain drop again..
                              ..small hand vanished.
Mar 2014 · 787
Lantern's Sight.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
These two paths
Both mostly lit by other's lanterns.
Echoing with hisses of different answers.
Heart battle loyalty
  Where do I truly lie?
  Which hand do I untwine?
Clock ticks, licks lips, sparing for solid words. I sit and ponder with my own lantern: dim and rusted. Staring into the flame I see the glisten. Ahead the path, these light coming back. What am I to do? What do I say? This is the end oh dear loved one. I have chosen hand over name.
Mar 2014 · 400
Parched Existence.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Breathing in the same heat, ageless and tired, nothing fresh to offer except for the stale grain. This heat living inside others but their faces are blank, stale and robbed of hope. Ears ringing with the same answer, same response, same wishes all from the parched mouths of these breathers. Looking into dirt has more truth than you could ever tell. They slither closer, scarred scales beating down the desperate dirt, always thirsting for relief. Come now, can't you bare your ****** neck once more? Feel teh unrelenting burn as you feed me false venom. Awaiting the light, I sit in this heat. Keeping my straight face so I can't be brought to the shallow state. I wonder.

*Is it the same light the parched already await?
Mar 2014 · 324
To see the Black Passion.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Squirming in this black veil I flail around for the opening. All you can do is weave more thread. Take your needle tongue and stab at the veil. Ripping out so I can see what this thread spells out of the constant blinding shade. I have thrown this veil into the shadows so many times but
I still stand in the tangling.
Mar 2014 · 285
Temple of Faces.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
The familiar faces cease to exist in this realm of truth. My hand glowed as I went to join hands, they vanish to this cold smoke. Filling the room, mist of faces sigh. There's a glowing hand in the distant mist, a familiar face follows. Could you be the lone other? Let us mend our pair.
Mar 2014 · 442
Gazing Silk.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Suspended in your grasp, it seems time has been swallowed in the same bite as so my passion. This desire may never be quenched as long as the blood runs red. Embrace me till the oceans dry, when the Earth reunites with sky. I'll lay here in peace as long as I may float in your eyes.
Mar 2014 · 298
My Inferno.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Nails teasing at my back, set my spine on fire. Teeth gracing where the eyes can't have sight. Twisting and arching, tasting the burning satisfaction. She can't be quenched. My skin meets you and melts to the touch. I'm lost in this moment which has been a lifetime. My head aches with desire that can only be freed by words. These words are forsaken and would break all the binding. I'll keep on wrapping around the oak tree till I can truly see.
Mar 2014 · 335
Longing Nostalgia.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Pitter-patter, repeat, and pause. You could fill the void, but you always scurry away without a goodbye. Under here? Over in the distance? I think I’ve lost all hope. Just one more try then I’ll forget, that was four years ago. Why must you be so elusive? You’ve dug a hole in my mind since the day you left, always in my peripherals grinning at my ever-expanding curiosity. People think I’m crazy still looking for you, but I’ll never give up. I’ll see your brilliant glimmer once again and watch you knock down the Jacks.
Mar 2014 · 325
Paper Wall.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
The repainted brick lining the never-ending halls, I had seen them day in and day out for those long four years. My footprints had sunk into the cheap tile that lined the cold hallway. All of the other footsteps seemed so silent but yet again they were so visible. Everything was always a blur, I inside a clock with no battery, but a beating heart instead. My heart powered this clock, fueled by what was necessary and my motivation to finish this long subdued punishment. The voices of the teachers were dusty and made my ears ache, I could only daze out at the window showing a perfect view of the mountains. I craved the mountains but they were so far out of reach, I couldn’t leave this place. Even if I did leave this campus I wouldn’t reach them. My footsteps would sink into the dirt just as they did in the hallways. I would rather have the sun-beaten dirt fill my shoes than this exhausted concrete. I didn’t want to be part of the cycle. No one was remembered, no matter how many portraits laid in the hallways, those walls were peeling anyway. I felt like the pictures changed whether who walked through the hall, adjusting to make you feel like you had reason and that you’re time wasn’t completely wasted. I wasn’t blinded by those false words, and I didn’t take comfort in the paper halls. Instead of pictures hanging on the walls of me, **I wrote the truth on them and told them the way out.
Mar 2014 · 724
Losing Grip.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
I yell at myself internally but my ears still echo like the empty hallways they've become. Why has the rope thinned? The collar has ripped and I've lost my grip. I'm inside lurking behind my own eyes, all that she believes is her own white lies. Come back to who I used to be, no longer a separate piece. I'm slipping into the transparent glass, still to stare at this familiar stranger within my mind.
Mar 2014 · 323
Deserted Faith.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Dull, soundless, mud wrapping around soles of the relentless walker. Hoping she'll grow tired just like those of her past, her tears pave the way. Causing her own self destruction but running from the fate which has beckoned.
Which do you choose?
Indecisive mind of woman can't be swayed by the words or mud of her own sorrow, the blood will mix with the ground she must follow. Mirages guide her faith, seeing the footprints burnt into the sand of past believers. Sink now, into the hot sands. May your tears dry before you're shown your worn hands.
Mar 2014 · 1.8k
Window.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
You see so much yet stand so still

To wonder what is out there while dust gathers on your sill.

Such memories that you've witnessed but can speak none

I can maybe only recall one.

Craving to wander
I'd gladly trade,

How I would love to sit and watch the
world fade.
Mar 2014 · 367
Flesh Case.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Seeing myself it's like a glass ghost,
         Can't look away from my own purgatory.

          This flesh cage that I can't break,
This knife bleeds nothing but red paint.

Set me free from this cruel unending,
          I was once so happy but to be trialled again.

         Can I pass your test and prevail once more? Let my eyes rest and stop.
This carving at my skull.

— The End —