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Michael Stefan Feb 2020
You visited Darkness on my doorstep
A maelstrom of madness behind a cracked clown's mask
Your rictus grin cast shadows on my house guests
An upheaval of war broke out at gentile dinner party

Your heavy booted footsteps echoed in the antechamber
As you strode so confident into cacophonious dinner
Laying hands on hors d'eouvres and rotting sweet flesh
Forcing famine to descend on friendly folk

You played with the delicacy of human frailty
As you coughed with hollow wet echoes, racking paper lungs
Spreading filth and vile pox from woman to man
A sickly green pestilence wrapped tendrils around them all

And lastly, you stood before me brandishing gloved finger
You pointed at my chest and asked me, "Are you ready?"
The delight you took from all this rancor, truly sickening
You visited death upon my dining table with glee

But death won't get what it wants on this cold day
Not with heavy heeled boots of war, nor from feast to famine
Not with the pox of pestilence, no horse will drag me away
You came bearing darkness my friend,
But in a quiet valediction, I shall have to ask you to leave
Not actually sure what happened when I wrote this one.  I was feeling grumpy at fairweather friends and had recently read a graphic novel depicted the horsemen of the apocalypse in an every-day-life scenario.  I decided to blend the idea that bad friends carry these horsemen in them and will always want to share them even if everyone else is having a good time.
Ken Mears Nov 2019
The struggle is real

The world is on fire,

And everyone is a liar


The struggle is real

There is temptation and sin around every corner

I swear it is torture


The struggle is real

People are drawn in and dragged down

As everyone has a nervous breakdown


The struggle is real

War, famine, and death abound

And the wire around the world's neck is tightly wound


The struggle is real

I have seen so much pain

It has been seared into my brain


The struggle is real

The world is dying

And everyone is crying


The struggle is real

The world is on fire,

And everyone is a liar
Kay-Rosa Aug 2019
almost caught around cold marble corners,
stealing strawberries
never noticed by the common crowds,
painfully singled out by the mobs
snatching frozen kisses through double sided mirros,
make me look conceded
silver moments savored by golden windows,
showing worlds who never cared
wondering why we are labeled as villain,
they are the crude smokes that filling ****** skies
contaminated by pleas of those who perspire over you,
fall me upon silent ears
slink around in dark damp under-secret tunnels,
intials engraved within an immature heart pressured into perfection by natural issues
pollution, famine, war, death
four horsmen ready to ride unto an unforgiving world,
but i am the best
the horsemen can never outrun me
i'll always be just behind the almost-loyal congregations, lying in wait amongst the shadows not cowering,
waiting for their side effects to set in
it never takes long
for the noble steeds stomp upon my seeds of doubt,
pressing them firmly in with blood, sweat and tears
first, little sprouts, then large blinding leaves and rolling suffocating vines with poison thorns
don't ***** yourselves children, the fear will set in
hello, freshman year
fray narte Jul 2019
and what you need
to realize
is that
the flowers growing
on the tips
of someone else's pen
is not
the wilting of yours.
Madness Unseen Jun 2019
I am living at Death's door\
I wanted to live some more\
That is why I never passed to beyond\
And now I'm a wanderer at this hour\

I am killing at War's front\
Against my willon this manhunt\
I wanted more from this life\
And now I'm a murderer and shunned\

I am eating at Famine's dining room\
With a hunger that leads me to ruin\
I want more to eat, all I am is gluttony\
And now all I do is consume\

I have Pestilence at my core\
Anyone I touch sickens, more and more\
I didn't want this for anyone, not me\
And now I caused this horror\

Out of control, I'm not me\
An apocalyptic creature, a zombie\
Created to **** and leaved the world free\
Of this curse that is known as Humanity\
Brian Yule Mar 2019
Acorns in absentia
Adorn the barren field
Ungathered post the autumn fall
Unsprouted seed beyond recall
Withered where once was wherewithal
In accord with the fallow yield

And will the bare earth reignite
Weedwild and verdant, full of fight  
Second wind, second sight,
Some forgotten, refracted beam of light
In shifting dust revealed

Some autumnal hymnal hummed
Will popping fruit to fullripe come
Once this lull’s long hurt is healed
This restless tomb unsealed

For now
Acorns in absentia
Adorn the barren field
With thanks to Ms. Francesca Ruffo for her casual museship.
Chris Jan 2019
It is the war, and everlasting,
Its purpose depraved and disgusting,
And the light the stars are casting,
is a shadow of before,
It leaves all mankind in scattered ruins
and defies all righteous doings,
and there is no victor returning,
from this last of wars.

Nine hells will unleash the flame,
while we fight and die in vain,
nothing ever is the same,
no matter how it turns.
And the mushroom cloud is rising
a sign of a new dividing,
after it there´s no more hiding,
everything will burn.

Skinned and bare and chests cut open,
left to crows and half way rotten,
soon discarded and forgotten,
it´s the end it seems.
And the casualties are many,
But all that will be left to bury,
in this endless cemetery,
Is our hopes and dreams
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