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Jay M May 5
GORE WARNING - The following contains language describing blood, gore, and death.

Take to the streets
Frozen black rivers
Flow no more
Then once more
Icy black veins
Leading to a dead cold highway
Nothing left to stay
All guilty on the floor
Shouldn't have opened the **** door

Play the song, broken chords
Walking across creaking floor boards
Just can't seem to take the reins
Move the paralyzed limbs
When looking into the eyes of the ******
Lurking just around the bend
Waiting for the prey to turn
And be fallen
Back to the floor
Blood on the door
Screaming, smothered, crawlin'
Drop like a fly
Hush, run, there's no more need to cry

Sprawled out along the canvas
Open and on display
Spilling forth the contents
Bringing the scene some color
Breathe a little life into the gloom
Damp and dark
A beautiful mess
A masterpiece

Artist gone, first piece done
For now there are none
To view the first for the gallery

Sirens wail
People pale
Push past the door
Witness the horror on the floor
Blood pooled around it
Sprayed on the wall behind it
Corpse with a permanent smile
Blood oozing out like syrup
Criss-crosses carved over the eyes
Game over for the poor soul

Chest sliced open down to the waist
Pulled open, ribs like an opened cage
Heart delicately cut out
Missing from the scene
Didn't go to waste
Could this have been lovers rage?
Such is for the authority to figure out
Not exactly serene
With the entrails on the floor
Revealing that more than one ***** left through the door

With the same care as the heart
Both kidneys missing
Leaving but ****** spaces
What anther strange part
Not to be dismissing
As a mother paces
Shocked and worry stricken
What has become of her family?
Her husband lay dead
Her daughter gone
Just as the young one said had said
Now it seemed she had fled
Never to return the next dawn..

- Jay M
May 5th, 2020
This piece is rather dark, and is based upon my new character "Sara" for a horror story I'm working on.

Yes, in the story the daughter "Sara" brutally murders her father while her mother is out.
Alex Mars Apr 23
Standing on a pedestal
Bleeding on a stage
Colored insides for the aesthetic
Beautiful gore
Enhancing your beauty with gore
Showing other people my bones
An idea of perfection being nothing but blood and bone
I lay here and laugh
At the body, i’ve destroyed
At the skin i've hurt
And the insides i've boiled
The commercials show the ideal size
So the people that tell me
The one that I killed
The one that I saved
Whoever would stop me
From crumbling bones
And melting eyes
Limbs are falling off and getting lost
But i'm the idea of pretty
With the gore falling away
i dont know,
King Arthur Apr 9
I’d cut open my ribs for you
Kidneys, bladder, stomach, bones, heart
Would all be my gifts to you, my prayers
Eat them, use them, break them, I don’t care
As long as you keep your hands in me
I’d be the worst sinner
Hell has ever seen
For you
sophie Mar 26
take a bite
from my heart
its fleshy tendrils
shredded, as you
chew on the juicy
meat, muscle crushed
between your teeth.
another bite, bigger
now that you’ve had a taste.
your appetite has grown,
more, another bite, blood
dripping, half heart beating,
another bite, you lick your fingers,
red-stained, i watch you, bitten, struck
with love, a hole in my chest, so empty that
i don’t even feel it, you put the last piece behind
your very back molars, grinding it slowly, savoring
the taste of my rubber *****, your lips smack like a fat man’s.
my heart is gone, your stomach is full.
blind, i won’t give you my heart again but I can see
the famine in your eyes, never satisfied.
i take my fetus heart and place it upon your devil tongue.
No one Mar 24
When you hear the word cannibal

all you think of are immoral animals

Those who tear his own kin

apart, limb by limb.

Those who are consumed with the idea of gore

and once they have it, want more and more

When you witness the act of cannibalism

you think nothing of it, because it's an anomalism.

Because the more realistic example,

is us humans tearing each other into shambles

over vile words, wealth, and power.

Our foundations just run-down houses of lies we call a tower.

Then our leaders call these nocuous acts,

things that help our nation stay intact. 

Our society is filled with immoral obsession,

hidden by smiles and good looks called deception.
There's a bruise on my left arm
I want one of those
There's blood on my bracelet
And tears on my nose
A poem every day
Children aren't meant to know firsthand of the wars that are fought.
They are not meant to smell of
blood and ash and helplessness.
They aren't meant to be ferocious as feral wolves,
snarling and snapping at anyone that dares to get too close.
They are not meant to have bullets for words,
and knives for hands.
They are not meant to taste of loneliness,
much less of fear and gunmetal.
Children aren't meant to dream of loss
and failure
and sheets of blood that rain down
and paint the buildings
a macabre crimson.
Children aren't meant to become soldiers that fight the wars of their elders.
Don't grow up too fast. Enjoy your childhood while it lasts, because you'll miss it when it's gone.
Scarlett Feb 11
these sharp crooked joints
bulge beneath powdered skin
rotting nailbeds point
lurch from a lumpy shin
stretch my elastic ligaments
release these captive organs
seethe against my innocence
seek release from biblical orphan
what godless days roam this world
Mishka Wayz Nov 2019
(Part 1)

Standing on the mountain,
Slaying hordes, creating a blood-splashing fountain,
My sword slicing and slashing,
The bones broken, the bodies slayed, the blood gushing and splashing!!

When the foghorn blows, I know they want war,
My power will unleash itself, my sword will slay, no matter who they are,
Be it my mother or my brother,
For me, there is no such thing as fighting for each other…

I believe that in very corner there is anger and hate,
Talking about my sword, it you shall rate,
It is of fine diamond, sharp as the sharpest stone,
Swift enough to slice an apple in the air, and sharp enough to slice off any bone!

I watch with glee as the silver knights roar out the battlecry,
I watch as they grip their mighty swords, and start dashing, running to me, wanting to die,
They gallop on their horses, the ground shaking and trembling beneath their mighty army,
Maybe there is too much of a score, but surely to one knight I will make a death all charmy…

I grip my fine sword, as my eyes pierce the view, my head covered by my hood,
My face darkened by the hide covering my head, I'm death itself, standing on these lands for up to no good,
My green luminescent pupil-less eyes judge that of the knights there is a one-hundred four score,  
As I stand there, dressed in my black hide, my fur boots, I remembered how I used to say, "The more tough it is, the more gore…"

Suddenly, with a blink of an eye, we are face to face,
The horses shriek at me, as I leap at the knights,
A sword pointed at my heart, an arrow at my head, and swinging for my head, there is a rusty iron mace,
I grin, knowing that ****** will I make the nights!!

The eyes lock for a moment, the moment tenses,
There is anger in every heart as we stare, not just give nervous glances,
The time freezes, it's like in a slow-motion,
And suddenly, I basically activated an anger-rage potion!!

My jaws snap open, and air ripples around as my roar that is heard thousands of miles away explodes out of my jaws,
The knights' ears ring from the loudness of my roar,
The diamond sword tighter I grip with my finger-like claws,
And swing to my right at lightning speed, slicing the heads of the knghts' being four!

Blood gushes in a circle, while I give them no sign of good-luck,
My sword slashing, the clash of metal, my sword stabbing each knight like a duck,
Piercing the skin with my sword, I rip out their intestines with a flick of my hand,
The arrows zip at me, the arrowheads piercing my skin like it is sand…

I feel my bones snapping from the arrows, but pain doesn't brings me down,
Pain only makes me more angry and stronger, me it doesn't drown,
I'm a ghoul whose strength is not explained,
As I slice the knights and dodge the arrows, I remembered how when I fought, the blood rained!!

I stab a silver knight, driving my sword right through his ribs, ending his pain and troubles, then flick my hand and cut off one's head,
An arrow pierces my temples, but yet I'm still not dead,
Dodging swords and arrows, I slam my fist on the ground,
The air ripples around me, and the air pushes off the knights and arrows around!

My cloak swooshes from the force of the air,
I'm made of tough muscles and skin, fair?
You, an army of two-thousand-four knights, versing one thing that looks like a ghoul,
I'm too powerful, and already a thousand knights are slayed, ye fool!!

I came here for diamond, treasures and gold,
I'm a thing, I have no age, so I'm neither young nor old,
I'm empty inside due to my powerful god-like strength, making me heartless and cold,
As I stand there with muscles tense, blood pooled on the grass, I watch the knights standing, mighty and bold…

I call them warriors, I call myself a ghoul,
As I get back in battle, I slice off one's arms, making him from pain just drool,
He falls on the ground as my sword finds his head, the fall breaking his rib bone,
As I slice off heads and arms, legs and waists, dodging arrows and receiving blows of swords, I speak in a demonic voice, "You ain't alone!!!!"

Slicing bodies, smashing bones with my fists and legs,
My sword creating a gushing fountain of blood,
Smashing ribs like they are shells from eggs,
You are fighting someone, who in war is a god!!!

As the arrows slice right through my skin from the force of the archers' metal bows,
I squat, my legs bented as I dodge all the blows,
Suddenly I push off with my legs, zooming into the sky,
The air ripples around, pushing back the knights paces away, as I zoom to the stars, up so high…

I gradually slowen down cause of the gravity, as I start falling down through the mist,
I face the Earth as I start zooming and searing through air  back down, my diamond sword ahead of my head, clinched by my ****** fist,
I see the army of a thounsand, gawking and looking up at the speeding comet in the sky,
"Here I come to gain my gold and make you know only one word, 'die'!!!"

My sword finds the ****** ground, as the ground explodes in a tremendous explosion and boom,
The flame unleashes and covers the sky, covers the lands, bringing upon the army a burning doom,
From space one could see how a big chunk and piece of Earth has exploded with fire,
Few minutes pass, and the as the smoke and fire clears, the victory is given to the hooded figure, giving others what they deserve and need to desire…

Slayed is the army of two-thousand and four,
It was rather too quick, I wish for more,
At least mine is all the treasures and the ore,
There was no other way to gain my treasures, so I gained them with gore…

I stand in the crater, formed by my victorious fatality,
If they want to steal my gold, they deserve such a brutality,
I'm death itself, and a ghoul,
If you spot me, remember to give what I want and don't be a fool………

-Mishka Wayz
This is created by me,  yes. It was hard to do this but at least I did it. This is a fantasy which I created.

The ghoul, is a guy, but he is so sinful and evil, and full of darkness and gore, that he calls himself a ghoul. He thinks he is a thing. But anyway, his name is Scardebego Whipsidol. Yes, I created the name and poem myself and everything is created by me. Sorry if there are any typos or it doesn't makes sense.
Also, Scardebego's strength is unexplained, and he is selfish for treasures. He slays anyone who dares touch his gold. He had a mother btw, and a family, but he was cursed by his greed for gold and treasures, that's why he killed his family and that's why he is so powerful and god-like, but sadly, dark and monstrous.

He can breath underwater for 78 hours until death  (3 days) (He has fish gills also)
He can burn alive for 78 hours until death  
He is dead only after more than a billion arrows (The poem takes place in the times of LOTR, but if it was bullets, he would die after a million of them)
He dies in acid and lava and mercury after 78 hours
He can live without his body parts for 78 hours (Head, legs, arms) (Also if his chest is torned open)
His full speed is the speed of lightning
His voice can be demonic and deep at times, and sometimes he can roar so loud your ears will shriek from the loudness that you won't be able to hear after a time (You might go deaf)
He sometimes doesn't speaks at all
His bones only break if he falls from the height of the moon
If his bones is broken, he can easily snap it back into place and his bone heals over time
His eyes shine at random moments, but mostly his face is darkened by the hood, making a hollow black-like void

No copywriting please

There. Cheers Lol
hannah b Oct 2019
how far would you let me go? how
deeply would you let me delve?

you might be tempted but
you don’t know
the thoughts i have
about you and the tip of
my very sharpest knife

and how pretty you
would look in red

how flush my
would make your cheeks and
your veins and
your heart

the woe that is sleek inside the
softer parts of my skill
and the gorgeous, most sacred
metallic inner parts of you

you are bleeding on
porcelain statues of gods
and somehow that
seems nothing
short of completely appropriate

zeus and i share a bottle of
wine in your memory
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