Sombro 3d

As I sit beside the door,
a broken man; I weep no more.
I feel a wisp, a breath of air.
The taste of flesh is everywhere.
Looking up, the lights are dim,
a greener chalice, with broken rim,
A sumptuous tale with rings of red,
begins to fill my weary head.
Trees reach within a winding path,
they follow man with broken laugh,
They tell him with a swish of death,
that he has suffered his last breath.
Within a beat of punctured heart
they draw him in to be a start,
To join them where they stand and grow,
and tell men what they still should know.
A forest dark is not a place,
to stray within with lighted face,
On hallows eve the day of days
they are keen to capture sunborne rays.
They make the world a blacker void
to make it thus – a world destroyed,
Where life outside is bleak and grim
and fallen hounds, at just a whim,
Descend within a whirl of fog
and make foul the words a hallows dog.
To all the people looking through,
frosted windows, at dead anew.
They tell a tale of broken men,
with greener chalices and then,
A sumptuous tale with rings of red,
begins to fill each weary head ,
And as they look into the eyes
of greenest demon they surmise,
That weeping will not stop the whim,
of foulest bloodhounds dark and grim
Which then descend in whirl of fog
and make foul the words a hallows dog
And on the ground, with twisted  song  
the fog transpires. Each man is gone.

I've been digging through old poems, this is one my very first!
Adam Robinson Dec 2017

A face at the window
A whisper from a crack
Ghoulish white eyes that stare from the woods
A knock from the cupboard door
Aching moans of a lost soul in a cave
Something lying at the bottom of a pool
White and shining unmoving and alone
Hanging maidens of pale beauty dangle
While cold mouldy men of newfound dread crawl
Old sodden coffins lining up a shore
Blowed out candles from the wind off the moor
Near large holes of blackness
Under beds of torn mattress
Hearing sighs of the dead
Leaves nothing left unsaid

Get Out Of My Head

Maybe I lost that innocence a long time ago
A strange thing indeed
Maybe we should ride bikes
In Anytown, U.S.A.
But I’m not sure it’s there anymore

Trick or treating
Pouring all the candy outta the bag after getting a large haul
Shit, we thought we were kings
But we probably weren’t much of anything
Just another soul on that pale blue dot

But I’m not here to wax poetic on how terrible my life is or was
Because it's not
All I can hope for is to tend to a garden
Improving it day in and day out

Raising a family of my own someday
While ride through adulthood
Confused and disheveled
But is that really any different from my past naivety?

Nylee Apr 2017

When I'm alone at night ,
I am not scared to turn off the light
I am not frightened that  easily
That is what I tell myself
I don't glance behind every next moment
I don't jump when I see some shadows
The strange sounds in the background
which echos around
doesn't terrify me
Nor do I look outside the window
Or I hide behind my pillows
There is nothing to fear at night
Nothing at all

Hiro Rousenfelt Nov 2017

It is saturday night
    And there's people whom I invite
    It's gloomy and twilight
For my friends had pillowfight

On the next day
Where they got home
They text there's something scary
On the basement that they roam

I replied and lied
"Silly, there was nothing inside"
I suppose and look outside
On the bodies that I killed, where will I hide?

Monika Nov 2017

Whatever you see
Whatever you try to see
Is never more real
Than what you see behind
Your eyelids.


                                     Whatever you feel
                          Whatever you try to feel
                                     Is never more real
                 Than the sensations made up
                                      When you dream.


Whatever you think
Whatever you try to think
Is never more real
Than the chaotic jumping
Of electrons.


                   Whatever is real
           Whatever tries to be real
                 Is never more
                                           than
      The chaos
                         that bears fruit
                                                     to it.










                   And takes
                                      it



                                         back.

Lyn-Purcell Nov 2017

There is one thing people can learn from Halloween.
We live a a world where people are
tricked by the ones
they treated right.

Sad, but true.
Nohémie Nov 2017

I'm more than just November
I'm more than just remplacement, I'm important
You look for her in other woman
And I know I just fit the description
but,
I'm more than the warmth holding you tight at night
Because you still haven't gotten used to not having her around
You say it's past history
But she was your whole beginning
She walked along you with the fall of leaves
With them turning from green
To other colours that couldn't relate to my envy
She was there for Halloween
And the costume and the festivities
And I'm just November, right in the center
I'm just the one in between
Interfering

sunprincess Nov 2017

Last night, Halloween night,  gasp
A phantom skull peers through my window
Alas, with a smoky ambience, an eerie glow
Watches me sleep, and sleep, and sleep
And dream, and dream, and dream
My guardian, a phantom skull

Isabelle Nov 2017

I am a walking corpse
Looking for you
To take back my heart
Which I offered you before

Your cold hands
Your harsh words
Your dry feelings
Your empty heart
Is what killed me

I am a walking corpse
Looking for you
To take back my heart
Which I willingly gave you before

My want of attention
Your lack of affection
My want of action
Your lack of emotion
Is what killed me

I am a walking corpse
With a body and soul
Looking for you
To take back my heart

This poem turns one year old today. Originally posted last November 1, 2016.
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