Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ash May 2019
heart choking on dread,
my feet timidly crept forth
towards my coffin.
nightdew May 2019
i love it most when you tackle me
with your arms swinging onto me
as we form our embrace.

                                                                          and for once it makes me
                                                                   feel safe, even though i'm free
                                                                                falling into your arms.

but i know you won't be the one
to catch me. because your heart's
e     l     s     e     w     h     e     r     e.
you love him and it's final
A pointed finger,
A shaking head,
A loud voice,
A thought of dread;

Chattering teeth, bleeding finger beds,
A thousand scars, a strangers treads;

It’s time to sleep, so shut your eyes,
But be careful, he’s always watching,
He knows your insides;

All your secrets, all your lies, all your misgivings, there’s nothing you can hide;

Your souls exposed, your gut and heart,
And if you look to close, he’ll steal your parts;

So cry silently, swallow your fear,
Cause if you don’t, you’re next my dear.
Chris Apr 2019
Crows
A girl walked through the field one morning,
free of worries, doubts and woes.
The path was clear, forever going,
Through the corn field through the rows.

She walked and leaped and laughed and sang,
Until she stopped to see the view,
Something strange has stopped her legs.
She would have walked on if only she knew.

There across her stood a stake
With a strawman tied and bound,
The crows sat on him,sat and ate,
But they didn't make a sound.

A scarecrow- she thought, but amused,
I've never seen one this upclose,
But isn't all for which he's used,
To chase off those nasty crows?

A girl drew closer and so did the clouds,
The birds shrieked and flew away,
The girl went pale and screamed out loud,
She aged a century that sunny day.

There on the stake bound with rope,
In the corn field attracting crows,
Hung, half eaten, beyond hope.
The girl's neighbour, farmer Joe.

She kept silent after that,
As the gray clouds spat out rain.
And the wind blew of the scarecrow's hat,
To reveal the farmers brain.
What most of us don't see.
Muhammad Usama Apr 2019
Distorted midday dreams
Deepest unwelcome fears
Uttering thunderous screams
With inglorious tears

A warm but scentless gaze
Limited by these walls
Lies fixed on you these days
While a dread in me crawls
Rowan S Mar 2019
Now, I always wait
For the other shoe to drop
Good things aren't for me

But I fight these thoughts
Incumbent storyteller
Perhaps, he is wrong
Chris Mar 2019
The world is upside down,
we did not prepare, we would not believe,
That our time will see a fool that wears the crown,
That the jackboot once again stomps the dreams so free,

The sun and moon will drown,
We refuse to see,
Those who we consider brothers,
Will turn on us with righteous frowns,
That they will cover and devour.

The fear is real and now,
Two horsemen are ready, and they are here,
They make us starve, they make us bow,
Until the other two appear.
The world is upside down.
Trump, Putin, TBA, TBA....
CL Fjell Mar 2019
Spring blooms rainbow flowers
With it grows a sense of dread
Am I really in the prime of my life
Or is it that I'm already dead
Nicholas Mar 2019
Fragile cosmos; not expanding but exploding what it wished were a
soulful, solitary display

All of His contemplations;
a quarry of quandry for
which the upper depths of
space are the baseline

Stars, no longer an expression of a
dying Son, ethearalize upon a canvas that can either
crush The Father

or remain
painted on the dark side of the
moon; a face mistaking it's
frown for a grin, nobody to correct him

Of His own volition;
a never-ending shift of balances

throwing Everyone into it's tantric evolution

Shotten wishes, raining onto the unawakened

Hushed gasps collapsing into
vacuous nothingness
Rambling spurred by an extended mediation on art and why we even create it to begin with.
Next page