Haleigh 16h
In a tunnel of dark
You are my light
In the shadows of evil
You are so bright
You guide me away
From pain and suffering
And lead me to a place
Of hope and loving
You made me feel special
When i gave up on hope
You tied me down
With your special rope
You cleansed me
Of all the hate
And turned me into
A clean slate
You are special
In every way
And not a week goes by
Where i dont think of you every day
My boyfriend wrote this
We are always the victim of our own story
We fashion wings of innocence for ourselves
accessorized by a halo of compassion and charity
Then we paint a mask on others
using colors such as greed and hatefulness
to show how truly evil they were
never wanting to admit our own fault
for fear of realizing our lingering evil inside
Adept 3d
little did i know that
my past would repeat itself
with the people i love the most
playing the parts of those
who were the most evil.
manipulation is, and will always be, my worst enemy and most feared concept
A planted seed will grow,
Unmasking its true identity.
Absorbed into the madness,
That empathy can't accept.

The bludgeoned trophy you keep mantled,
Ascended by antlers for the pecking birds.
Intricately adorning a delicate creation,
To showcase to the world.

Brought along for your hobby,
Game that stands on two legs.
The foulness of recollection,
Tastes awfully familiar.

Honored bodies devoured whole.
Devoured bodies honored whole.

The messenger in the forest,
Manifests closer each time,
Unbeknownst my dissociation,
Drenched in another cold sweat.

Constructed a new form of practice,
Sophistication that leaves no trace,
Attracts all and what is connected.
Cut from the same cloth.
40 years we have lived in the light and baunty so bright,
then comes 40 Years of darkest night.
Our town sleeps one last time in our lovely homes before we set off for the land of safety and light.
The twilight is here to the town's dismay,
the horrors come forth from the darkest pine-forest beyond our friendly place.
The town here's the evil waking in the dark place beyond and sounds the horns to board the ships that will carry them to safety from this soon-to-be horrid place.
We left a lovely town in the shadows of death,
we will return in 40 years to reclaim what we have left.
Good luck to those who stay behind for we are the lucky ones that flea  from the coming endless night.
Those who stay will face their ugly nightmares,
but fear not for we will be back to bury your bones beneath our lovely Town in 40 years.
Whether you're brave or stupid we shall not know.
Death awaits you beneath the snow.
Good luck you poor soul.
Copyright Michael Robert Triska July 2018 This is a Dungeons & Dragons 5th edition game called Endless Night. The players are besieged by all manner of whores has the 40-year night Falls over the town and the town villagers have all left the village for safer climates.
Martin Narrod Jul 11
Flits of crepuscular longing across the simoom in the night. For with samiel at the helm, all hell will take us for sloth. Firstly, a schism overtakes the wind, backsliding the doorstep of Lucifer’s kin. Keep an eye on the door’s of ewes. The child angered by sky will surely lust for the hedonists imbue. Then the rattle shakes, pelting trunks of lye, chafing the goons of the dawn and choking from the booze in our young. Aristotle bakes yore, and relief takes the pen, until the quietness of the impala becomes transfixed by our brethren. Then sores take the skin by trial. Eagerly rushing towards the venomous trails, and only then does the bandit bemoan the pain. Only then will the hungered and hungry peel back their fingers for fare, there where the flocks lay in wait and in pairs. Here where the melancholy of revenge, fills our quivers with children’s tears. Only then do we make haste for the shade, otherwise the sun will cook our hides to the colors of the day, then we will lay quiet too. Maybe then we’ll be overtaken by the Xombie Moon.
Kylie Jul 11
Grey lead bullets and pure white snow,
One side a swan on the other a crow,
They say one is evil the other is not,
But when committing a sin they shall both rot.
how The world fixes wrongs by still doing wrongs.
Starlight Jul 10
We have all the time in the world
She coos to herself
Trying to pull herself out
From the pit she has buried herself in.

We have all the time in the world
We have forever
With such a cursed double-edged sword as life
Giving us freedom and pain.

She claws her way with
Dirtied fingernails
Chapped lips
A crinkled smile like a chip packet
Out of the dark hole.

The sun is too bright
And she cries out like the
Monster
She has become.

'I have everything'
She says, because it is true
She holds love like a dying bird
Smothering its freedom in a hope to keep it with her
She strangles knowledge with
A dark mind
Which thinks of nothing but broken records and the
Repeat of
'I hate myself'.

Life is beautiful
She muses as she spreads her darkness with her
Tainting all those she speaks to
Even with a glance they become ruined.

Why do you love me
She swears like it is a
Foul curse
As her mother stares at her
With too old dark eyes
That speak of ignorance
And biting knowledge.

The wind howls
'I hate you'
As if it were consoling her
Maybe it was.

It sweeps her off her feet
And carries her out to somewhere else
She had been standing too long
Almost looking living
And now needed to die for a week or so
Bury herself again
And wallow
As if her world were imperfect.

She walks to school
Always tugging at her sleeve
Always wondering if they see it
But don't care
If they see her
But don't care
If they whisper about her
But don't care.

She wonders if they care.

'Look away'
She lies
She wants a hug
But she also wants a slap
And a shout
And for someone to say
'Snap out of it, you're not a child.'

She is a child
Even if she is not
Even when she is
Her eyes are old
Yet she has seen no war
Or violence
No one hates her
No one that matters
But yet her eyes seem to absorb the elderly
As she looks around her
Stealing life from others.

'I curse my empathy'
Even when someone sneers she wonders why
She pities them
She wishes to understand their hate
She doesn't heal her bruises
She longs to heal other's bruises.

Yet she is still innumerably selfish.

The cow.

She looks behind her
Someone is there
Always there
Paranoia, hypersensitivity
She sees people who aren't there
Always about to tap her on the shoulder
And she spins around
Heart racing
Breath catching
The anxiety throb in her leg pulsing again like clockwork...

No one is there.

What do they want
She thinks loudly
Hoping they can hear her
And she won't have to say it out loud.

Truly she is selfish
Even if they asked her
She would deny them
For she hates them
All of them
For they are happy
And she is not.

Why am I angry
She whispers mournfully
She should be grateful
Look at her house
Dog
Friends
Parents
Cuts
She is so lucky
She should feel happy
Doesn't she have it all.

It is not a question
She bangs out nonsensically
Drumming away
Her fingers tapping in anxiety
And fear
And maybe sadness
And maybe cryptic malevolent amusement.

She climbs back down into her pit of despair.
Its warm.

How oddly comforting.
Randy Johnson Jul 10
My nephew is making me play a different version of hide and seek.
This version involves a gun, if he finds me, things will become bleak.
In this version, if a player is found, he is killed.
I'm scared out of my wits, I'm sure not thrilled.

He said if I didn't play the game, he'd kill me on the spot.
He's trying to find where I'm hid but I hope he can not.
He is a twisted and totally evil child.
His parents have never disciplined him and he's running wild.

My nephew just found and shot me, I have a bullet in my chest.
My life is flashing before my eyes and soon I'll be laid to rest.
My wife and kids will be devastated when they learn that I bought the farm.
This evil little child needs to be killed or locked up before he can do more harm.
Aa Harvey Jul 10
The Deceiver.


There’s a demon in the ceiling;
I can see it looking down on me.
It is in the walls now;
Who do I call now?
I can’t stop it;
Here it comes to kill me.


I sit in silence; I’m too frightened,
To make a sound or run away from it.


It starts to talk to me, but I can’t understand.
It gets angry and then the lamp goes bang!
The bulb explodes and the curtains fly open!
I’m so frightened, but my mouth is still trying to speak;
But I cannot speak,
Because the demons mind,
Seems to have control of mine.


Whispered whispers…
Sinister hisses.
The whole room flashes and I am taken away…


I don’t recognize this place;
I hear a scream of pain.
I see the future and I can see her face.
I beg for salvation, but no one is listening;
The knife is glistening and then her screams die out.


Whispered whispers…
I still hear them.
They are in my head now
And I can’t see a way out.


Darkness surrounds me;
I am guilty.
I never did it;
Diminished capacity.


In the mirror I see a figure;
It looks like me, but a demon lurks beneath the surface.
I am helpless; I don’t want to do this,
But still it comes with another sick request.


Number two now;
One of a few soon.
One day I will lose count;
The way I am losing my mind, inside this gloomy room.
Piece by piece,
It goes little by little.
Belief is fading now that I will ever escape this evil.


It’s in my mind now,
It’s in my life now.
I keep losing time and I awake to another cry.


Another midnight.
Another moon light.
Another dead body.
Not one witness in sight.


It has a taste now;
A taste for blood.
It carries on killing
And I cannot escape its evil clutch.


I speak to a preacher.
I tell him of my demon;
But I keep secret all the things that the demon has done.
Let me heal you;
Let me banish it.
He tried in vain to save this fallen son.


Now I am a beast man;
Something made by chance.
The preacher falls down dead
And the demon does a little dance.
It took an axe to stop him…
But someone had called the cops in.


Now I’m in prison and the demon just laughs at me.
I tried to tell you your soul was always mine.
You simply borrowed it from me
And now you are on borrowed time.
Your death is coming;
Time to start running.
Your soul is mine
And your body is useless to this being.


We are both in Hell now; me and the demon.
The fires are burning all around me
And the demon just sits there singing.


“He sold his soul for a little gold
And now he is doomed to spend eternity in the flames.
He sold his soul for a little gold
And now he is doomed to spend eternity in the flames.”


He is called The Deceiver.
The Dream Weaver.
A nightmare born inside a different time,
Inside a broken mind.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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