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Shadow Dragon Jun 2018
The mercy of God
saved him from
the world.

With his alleged
****** birth
flesh from
light and darkness
mixed in a
good and evil
conflict.

Flesh and meat
eaten.
A member
to pluck fruit.
Wicked lost souls
belonged to
the lower order.
cait-cait Jun 2018
when i was little ,
dad handed me a shovel and
he handed me
a dress.

he taught me how to dress myself
and then how to garden ,

to dig each hole
in soft
           flesh and soil.  

ive grown up since,
gotten taller,
and can hold
the shovel by myself ,

so
i dig graves now instead .

ive saved one for dad ,
                               and ive saved one for me.

six feet deep ,
                        it’s a bed with no blankets
and it’s
perfect ,
and
it’s mine —

and
i want to be buried in a dress
i can button
                     all
                         by myself ,

because
dad also handed me a shotgun.
you've made this bed, now lie in it!
ClawedBeauty101 Jun 2018
Within every heart, there is a chain hooked up to a wall of flesh, blood and stone.

Scars open and cut too deeply, we rather thirst and drink our own blood then eat the molded food that the guards of fire and destruction serve us.

We try so hard to escape this hell inside our minds. But it almost seems impossible and mindless.

Every day, we live in a living nightmare. We would rather die than live another second in this kingdom of depression and wrath.

There is only one law, and the law is the image of death is nothing but a dream.  

We can try our hardest to desire the blood spill and the gushing out of beaten bones and origins to spill out of our weak and limp bodies, but all we'll do is spawn back into this waste land

Tears stream down the faces of many innocent broken people; they feast on each other like beast of a large skeleton bump sight,

We're tortured until our back bone is visible, and our voices are empty and numb.

Our fingers lay in pieces of flesh on the cold mossy stone floor from making meals for these zombies like monsters.

The meals are the hearts and frightened minds of our fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters; we weep for them and wish for no comfort.

**I am the only prisoner in this Endless Fire Hell that has a window in their dang room. I can see a brighter, safer, more loving place just millions of miles away.

I often reach my hand out the window, to at least feel tiny drops of refreshing rain on my black burning skin.

I cry aloud, calling for some kind of help, but I know that calling and crying won't get me anywhere.

The rain drops are the only loving thing I have, for they heal my scar and fix my wounds, the only hopeful thing that my blurry eyes and beaten hands have ever seen and felt.

Under neither this dungeon in the sky, is a vast and cool ocean that I long to swim in the feeling of freedom and satisfaction.

Within every moment as I swim in the burning and melting lava pool, oh how the lava is stained by the blood and eyes of prisoners that have slowly melted away.

Their skin slowly ripping off their skull as they scream in a high and painful voice… Oh how I long to feel the rain. Oh how I long for it.

On one faithful day, there was a great down pour, and the rain drops starts to sing in harmony with serenity and joy, which caused the stones of bitterness that surround my window to give way and crumble and fall into the sea.

I smiled bright for the first time in 16 years. I took the chance and jumped, but then quickly grabbed hold of a left over stone, my arm stretched in pain.

How silly of me to just jump and not knowing if I’ll die and spawn back here or if the guards will see me in the ocean and band the rain from this Nether.

My Arm soon gave up its last strength as my ****** hand finally let the stone go. I could feel the rain, filling and soaking my entire body,

I crashed into the ocean, my eyes closed, and my mouth allowing the water of purity to drown me, my arms and leg motionless as I began to sink.

I would rather die in something I love, than live in something I hate...
Written on February 11, 2016, 10:37 am
**During the time I wrote this, I used the "d*mn" word... instead of dang"

Alright, this is not a poem, but more of a story... so apologies if I disappointed any of you guys with that.

I wrote this poem after an accident with my family, where I fell into deep anger and rebellion. I wrote this poem to let out the hopelessness I felt, to let out the madness I felt locked up in.  I was very distant from God, from my family, from my church. Rereading this revealed to me how much HATRED I had...  I am blessed and surprised how God or even the people I know could ever forgive me...

Another way to look at this poem is without Him, We do live in a mind state of Hell. We will go to Hell, unless we escape that Hell, which s through Jesus Christ, which I would think represents the Down Pour. And when she Died in something she Loved, there are so many people who Died PROUDLY for their faith... and I know they would die for something they love, then live in a world of Hate... and I know in a heart beat I would do it... the Prison of Hell would Represent us being trapped in this world of Sin or being trapped in sin in general and how monstrous it is.... So I guess that's another way to look at it
stopdoopy Dec 2018
The whispers of flesh on flesh
The pressure of you
The slide of fingers down my neck
The breath against a crook
The warmth radiating between us
The blood rushing
The hand on my back
The contact
stopdoopy Jun 2018
being struck by lightning
what a sentiment
we think of you as this beautiful destructive force
and you are
but is the electrocution
worth it to taste
that sticky sweet acid
or what about the
searing of flesh in a shattered pattern
branching out
reaching
just like I am to you...
Rsebd Jun 2018
Her legs opened in the fashion a flower blooms,
proper and poised.
She exposed to me a rarity, the most exotic of fruits.
She offered herself to me and I gratefully accepted.
There is something so beautiful about a partially tamed woman.
The thickness behind her hips rested gently in my hands.
I kissed the tender flesh of her inner thigh,
all while teasing her with my fingers.

She’s soft as snow but warm inside.

Her skin tasted of sugar and spice,
my fingers like candy.
I was hypnotized the moment her pearl touched my lips
and I tasted the sweetness of her desires.
She had me where she wanted me and I didn’t let up.
Her pit wept upon my chin while I devoured the surrounding fruit.
I felt her body shake and I knew she had nothing more to give.
I leaned back to lick the spot just below my lip,
I marvel at the flavor of you.
Delicate and sweet.
I surrender.
Lana May 2018
Steer clear of malice;
To speak of arrows tipped in actuality and respond justly toward malignity.
Lest I fall under the gaze of malice becoming putrid within.

Heavenly Father above.
You paved the way to a damaged youth yet,
Almost commonplace to allow surrogate protectors,
Crawl inside my flesh only to be spat back out once again.

I realise I am not but the woman I thought myself to be;
Only an interchangeable piece in the mechanism.

A piece in the mechanism,
Intertwined between countless souls on the way of my path.

By Lana
Cardboard-Jones May 2018
You say you love me
Does not compute
You say you need me
Does not compute
I am trying

If all my systems should overload
Just be aware, I may explode

Program my feelings, program my heart
Previous owner left me in the dark
Possibly, Robot learn love?
ERROR ERROR

If all my circuits should catch on fire
Do not panic, just need to be rewired

Reprogram!
Break down my firewalls
Reprogram!
Enter the password
So that Robot learn love

I sense your pulse, I sense your life
Your fingers running on my chest plate
Reboot!
So many errors, so many virus
Kiss me on my soulless lips
Debug!

Science, my creator
Science my knowledge
Introduce love as beyond comprehension
Upgrade!

If this experiment turns up fatal
Just hack my mainframe to be more stable

Reprogram!
Fill me with dreams and aspiration
Reprogram!
Penetrate this metal prison
So Robot....learn love
a rose
might yield
intentions
fake and loveless intentions
intentions to use and abuse
none to love and appreciate
only to have a quick
fulfillment
then maybe a "i love you"
just to get some more fulfilment
a sneak peek into the unknown
the wanted to be known
fake
fake
fake
"love"
just for flesh on flesh
all of this concealed in a one gesture
the use of a rose
Ashwin Kumar May 2018
What is it like, to go hungry?
The wolf in me answers
Starved for hours and hours
There is a storm raging inside
Ready to wreak havoc on all
But especially on those cretins
Who have, in their callousness
Denied me the food
Which I so richly deserved
Leaving my stomach clutching at straws
My tongue lolling around in vain
My teeth sharpening themselves
Ready to tear into the flesh
Of the humans who ignored me
Ready to drink their juicy blood
Ignoring their frantic screams
The wolf yearns to pounce
And devour its tormentors
Until every pang of hunger
Is annihilated once and for all
Trigger Warning: The poem contains a few lines depicting gore and violence. Not recommended for the faint-hearted.
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