Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
n Jan 14
He tasted dry,
When licked with sour spit.
His scent was foul.
Broad hands rejected
Curling feet.
Met by scowling eyes,
He criticised me with love.
Dani Jan 10
Creeping crawling
Waiting stalking...
You sit there in wait
As if a planned date

Of which, I do not know
Why are you staring little crow?
You sit and watch beating hearts
'Til the harvest starts

I almost tune out the evil laugh
That you bellow from deep within your wrath
And almost forget where you reside
That is, within me, deep inside

Your jar of souls collected slowly
You take your time being unholy
You go into hibernation away from the watchful cavists
You do not mind though, for winters calm brings great Spring harvests

You feast and feast devouring bit by bit
You take piece by piece encouraging me to submit
Fighting the pain,
Fighting in vein...

Tearing me down, nonstop
As if I your crop
Little crow caws in joyous evil song
Release me from your grasp, I beg all night long

You come and go
And reap what I sow
Taking my strength and will to fight
Chomping down into flesh throughout the night

Released once more, you hide away again
I almost forget, but you have written it in permanent pen
"Never forget, sweet child, I am you keeper.
The Soul Reaper."
Cavist: A hawk which is of proper age and training to be carried on the hand; a hawk in its first year.
A symbol of strength and protection for me.
Izzy Aghahowa Dec 2018
it was dark and the thunder was growing
along with the screams of the children outside
who were running away from the storm
that was to come
with my hands clenched
and my ribs growing tired
my breaths became restless and weak
as i started to lose control
i fell out of my keep
like a lamb that had strayed afar
there you were
with your deafening heartbeat
as you watched me like a silent hawk
watching its prey
carelessly finding
remnants of an unwinding heart
that had been left sober
on the kitchen counter
we were walking on egg shells
around aquamarine carpets
the mud stains you left
had a form that couldn't help
but fall into tangled pieces of righteous light
that were trapped in the heat of our human pressures
and our unspoken pleasures
your painfully bright emerald eyes
seldom locked with mine  
your razor-edged chin
in my shoulder it found its borough
it laid firmly planted
waiting to feel secure
within my tiny grasp
as we moulded an embrace
that felt like lifetimes that had been and gone
in silence was your comfort
it lived there with laughter
while you floated above the hair on my skin
as your hands exposed bubbling panic
though it was draped in loose tranquility
we found we had lost ourselves
the lights had finally escaped our eyes
we were now alone with the raging tempest
8M Dec 2018
My eyes are dull
Darkness flows fast and
Steal my heart and
Fly away

Darkness flows fast and
They'll go avast again
Fly away
Just like the hawks

They'll go avast again
Tooting the horns
Just like the hawks
They've found their prey

Tooting the horns
Searching for love
They've found their prey
Bombs away

Tooting the horns
Steal my heart and
They've found their prey
My eyes are dull
sushii Oct 2018
everything was so mundane,
no sound,
no name.

the silence watched over us like a hawk,
resting it’s talons on the trees above.

there was no thud,
no beat,
no reverb.

the machines did not whir,
or click,
or crackle.

the strings never hummed,
the girl never sang,
and the child never played.

neurons following a set circuit,

the sun always set,
yet it had never risen.

hardwired to the equipment,
but the machine never worked,

because the processor was coated in a mundane molasses.

moving through gray honey,
black and white retinas perceive gray things
for our slow-moving hands to paint.

the words were the same,
the day never changed,

it was, and always will be
the same.
erin Oct 2018
she sat by the stake
scorched feathers fell to the ground
and her talons fell
about school.
Bea Mecum Jul 2018
There once was a scorpion

who lived under a rock

who dreamed every night

that he was a hawk

in dreams he would soar

through the night's skies

searching the seas

for his most wanted prize

there was always a scorpion

who was truly a hawk

but at the end of each night

he would crawl under his rock

He would continue to do this

until he got his true wish

that someday he would catch

a lightning like fish

There will be a bird

who once was a hawk

who lived as a scorpion

under a rock

a bird so colorful

because he got his true wish

that one day he'd catch

a lightning like fish
Michael King Apr 2018
As I walked over the mountain tops
with glory in my hair.
I saw a bird upon the wing.
It floated in the air.

It hovered near, above my head
not leaving for a while.
Just glared at me, like food for free.
I swear I saw a smile.

I swear this bird, this soaring beast
had me in terrors grips.
It longed to be the end of me
to ******* blood... one sip.

But I was not a weakened soul,
and on these heights I strode.
As surely as the sun was high
and in this bitter cold.

This bird would never get to me
or strike in me a fear
of being eaten dead alive.
Worms crawling in my ear.

Oh bird alight, please fly away.
I'm fearful of your stares.
On this day, I surely know, you'll
linger in my nightmares.
Next page