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atptla Jan 2020
Long are the nights now
When dreams are no longer kind
Through air prowls the imminence of death
Soaks my soul, the mirth has gone
In my weariness all seem dull
Nothing to feel or imagine
Still hearing her voice, my hearse
Bedimming the memories left behind
In the moment of despair
A haunting melody pours from my lips
And fades into lurking darkness
Carving out my eyes to see
The secrets behind the shattered drapery
A journey through the lands of nihil
I've been here before
atptla Jan 2020
An idle cry echoes through the void
As silhouettes root away my thoughts
Ominous whispers louden, killing the peace
Leaving no solace behind
Confined to a long-lost hope
Seeking the forlorn smile
Yet, drowning within my own breath
Above my head, dwells a hungry ghost
MisfitOfSociety Dec 2019
Do you weep,
For those you ****?
Do you feel cold,
Without your second soul?

Skeleton,
In the house of the living.
It is like being alive,
But never being able to die.

Dissection,
On the surgeon’s table.
Gave your soul to death,
And he came to kiss it goodbye.

You opened up
The bee and the flower bud.
Carnivore,
You slammed your petals shut!
The mouth of god fills up again,
You digest and ***** it out.
It cannot speak,
Therefore, its heart must cease to beat?

Why does it matter to you?
It belongs to me!
I stole its air,
That makes it free!

****,
Before it can speak.
****,
Before it can walk.
****,
Before it can breathe.
****,
Before it can bloom.

Then bury it inside your human coffin.

Hung it from an umbilical cord!
Tied around a cracked frowning moon!
A stranger in your skin,
Buried inside your human coffin!

She sang the carols of the needle man,
Now she holds a dead heart in her hand.
A stranger in your skin,
Buried inside your human coffin!
DemoniousRex Nov 2019
Greatness strides down through her hair
Eager hearts go chasing after
Dark minds keep solemn watch
As a rope drapes from the rafters.

Blue flesh and purple lips
Listless eyes and cold stiff toes
A man of cloth recites in earnest
A selfish prayer of stunted prose.

This ****** of crows that’s gathered here
Stands by in wait to see it’s done
They gloat in glee and flaunt their feathers
In this demise - the day is won.

By tomorrow another will come
Found by many with accusatory tongue
Without a witness to their name
The deal is struck, the rope re-strung.
I wrote this a few years back inspired by a Salem witch costume I saw at the time. May come off somewhat derivative and I apologize if it does. I mainly just write for fun.
Janal Rajput Oct 2019
Looking out my window I saw a fright!
The coldest and most blackest night,
Not a soul alive and I could not hide,
For the wind it screamed full of spite,
Against my window with vicious might!

I prayed for solace and for good day-light,
Yet my prayers were in vain of such a sight,
Petrified, I watched as the tempest grew,
The Thunder laughed at my dearest plight,
For it crashed to ground and lit it alight!

Never had a storm caused such a blight,
Had I angered the Gods? Is this their smite?
For no storm of man could shatter the trees,
O what a tale my death shall write,
The storm rages with rampant delight!

What horror is this? O it cannot be!
Do my eyes deceive me, or is this what I see?
A man soaked to the bone in this cyclone!?
Desperately clinging to but a broken tree,
In the foulest of nights, I run to his plea!

I ran into the vicious gale suddenly,
To walk the line between bravery and foolery!
Whilst the downpour drowned the very ground,
I felt like a sailor who was lost at sea,
My only guide this man’s despairing plea!

He screamed and bellowed as if a banshee!
O what more horrors had this night for me?
His body was broken, his back cut open,
God what such a wound, perhaps a tree?
I could not tell for it was too dark to see!

I reached to lift his head, for he might be dead!
Stunned to find his skin burning hot instead,
He whispered to me in the howling night,
I could not hear, what must he have said?
I cared not for the storm filled me with dread!

He turned his beautiful face to me,
Never will I forget what I did see!
For it filled me with sorrow,
To see such beauty in melancholy,
Black tears ran from his eyes freely!

My heart cracked at his obvious pain,
He stood up, the lightning striking again!
He lifted a hand and the storm subsided,
Whispering to me in a voice of disdain,
“I am no mortal; do you know my name?”

I rejoiced as my dark night turned light!
For an Angel had come in my darkest plight!
I praised The Lord and fell to my knees
Bowing my head in respectful benight,
“What is the name of the Angel who saved me tonight!?”


“I am not what you claim
And I have many a name
Lord of the Flies, Father of Lies,
Morningstar, Moloch and Beelzebub
Mortals I do despise.”

My eyes widened in stricken fear,
As he smiled at me with cheer,
I tried to turn, I tried to run,
My attempts met with a sneer,
I was trapped like a hunted deer!

Drenched to the bone I could see my home
Is this my punishment, my sins to atone?
I wondered how such beauty sat on
The darkest of Thrones,
I watched as he snapped two Angelic wings,
The crack sounding right from the bone

Blood as black as oil seeped into the ground,
Where it festered and boiled, I stood still spellbound
The tar sizzled my skin and bone, I prayed for God
“Pray all you want but this is unhallowed ground,
Your prayers fall silent they make not a sound!”

I began sinking into the black boiling pit,
My skin blistering and becoming alight,
He hovered above me, looking with spite,
And I felt his true hate and menacing might,
I sank deeper and deeper, I realized with fright,
I was falling into the Eternal Night.
A poem I wrote for Halloween!
MisfitOfSociety Sep 2019
Do you weep,
For those you ****?
Do you feel cold,
Without your second soul?
Skeleton,
In the house of the living.
It is like being dead,
But never being able to die.
Dissection,
On the surgeons table.
When you go,
will the dead pass me by?

You opened up.
The bee and the blooming flower bud.
Carnivore,
You slammed your petals shut.
Its mouth does not speak,
Therefore, its heart shall cease to beat?
Why does it matter to you?
It belongs to me.
I stole its air,
That makes it free.

Hung it from an umbilical cord,
Tied around a broken crescent moon.
Who knew that its home,
Would be the place to call its tomb.

Sang the carols of the needle man,
Now you hold a dead heart in your hand.
The air around screams ****** ******,
Seeing you through a blood-stained mirror.

A stranger wearing your skin.
Dead inside the home it made within.
A stranger wearing your skin.
Buried inside your human coffin.
Merry Sep 2019
She’s the spider on your shoulder
Holding you, cold and tight
She’s all eyes, slitted blue,
And the longest legs you’ve ever seen
With flaming locks of orange
Which burn brighter than the embers
Of bridges she’s destroyed in arson
And when she smiles, corner to wicked corner,
It’s not hallowed beeswax on her lips
Which gives them that crimson hue
She’s slow and steady wins the race
That your pounding heart
Is susceptible to losing to
Saccharine sweet with a smile to boot
She will have you licking hers
Steeped in honey, polite and courteous,
She spins you into her silken web
Not even of lies, but you fumble regardless
And then she eats you whole
lenore Jul 2019
i think i might have a mole.

my teeth are dug out of their rows.
my tongue is pulled out at the root.

my nails are shriveled up thorns,
my wrists wilted bouquets of bones.

my ribs metal jaws which enclosed
something that bit off its foot.

my skull’s overturned,
seeds spilling out of the neck.

what is a corpse but a flower bed?
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