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Umi Feb 2018
I will rise,
Rise to paradise again
Spread my wings, free from any chain,
With only one goal in my eyes I look to the sky
Then I rise, yes I will rise
From the hellfire, no matter the price

May I burn
Take my turn

But then it will surely be my time to shine
The beauty of the heavens will surely be mine
I will not stand these flames,
Embrace my devilish distorted wings
See what good that may brings
One last judgement
On this long lasting journey
I will rise, rise, no matter the price
A future dawns dream, draws near

Make it clear

In this realm of art and devilry
Heartfelt dream scapes shape the mirror
In a world so dark that the stars will blind-

Refuse to fall!

Forgotten by both Heaven and Hell
A craft of hearts forms my kingdom!
Take my hand, all ye pariah souls-
The love of light is for all to bear!

~ Umi
Umi Jan 2018
Hellfire do not go out!
Please just stay as you are
Once in the flames I wander through an answerless world
All the embers burning all the people are turning, trying to get away..
Hellfire do not go out!
Please just stay as you are
No matter how much they walk, no matter how far...
In the end they are consumed by these merciless flames
Burnt away, until not even their names,
Are remembered here, in this world full of shames
As the fire burns I ask myself wether this is a nightmare or not
And as it consumes my very soul and makes me then rot
I begin to then understand my very purpose, my destiny
Just being fuel for that fire to burn is what was planned for me
Oh Hellfire, will you go out ?
No, once you are about to go out, you just keep roaring loud
Come back hotter, more painful than I can take
My body is burning up, I think my mind is going to break
And as this torture goes on
I wished I would be gone

~ Umi
Meg Apr 2016
emotional stakes
are changed
when a young girl,
tasked to bring hellfire,
lays off the trigger
This is a blackout poem I wrote using a newspaper.
Brittle Bird Apr 2015
You woke like windows,
shattered in Jewish hellfire,
shade by burning books.
Day 21 of NaPoWriMo.
The first lines I wrought, was a joke and a hoax. A child with a pen, imagination ran thin. This is why my first poem, was just a joke from within.

a riddle came to mind and a battle raged inside. For it fought and persisted whether to be riddle or rhyme.

Riddle of the demon ment to trick those who hide. Rhyme of the angels  To comfort the kind. Hellfire scorches all light from the sky. Angels become violent for the sake mankind.
Ok so I find this interesting mostly because I don't recall writing it. It has to do with my other two poems on here. But I wrote this just a few months ago I'm guessing.
PrttyBrd Mar 2014
Draining Hell-fire through fingertips. Fully immersed in emotion, not just the memory.  Reliving the feeling of tortured souls while bleeding ink into words.  Slinking from an ashen past into a jet black future. The present lost, forgotten, left behind in transition from shadow to darkness. Shattered souls resuscitated and shared for the mere pleasure of others.  there is no time to wallow, no self pity. That is not found in this place, burned off as sulfur in the brewing of a demon.  

She comes alive
Through yesterday's ashes
Succubus divine


Such a pretty little package. Sugar and spice and everything that isn't meant for human consumption.  Poison mind seething, searching for the vulnerable, the gullible, the innocent, and the sweetly vile.  Spewing forth honesty in liquid courage.  No need to lie when eyes believe what they see.  Beauty in the moonlight, sweetness in a smile, desire in a twinkle of Hell in the eye.  Oh, that bit of Hell is a lot to chew.  Take a bite and choke.  Lost forever are pieces of you, your heart, your soul feeds her beautiful demons.  Her flawless imperfections beguile and betray the mind, as those demons consume her divinely

Entranced by beauty
He stalks his prey in music
She absorbs his soul


Honeysuckle perfume taints the air.  And the honey will never again taste as sweet. Swimming mind lost in those ruby lips and laughter like cracking glass heard as tinkling bells.  Ensnared in the thorns that hook the flesh by surprise. The warmth of the fire masks the sting. All part of the dance.  Writhing, hypnotic friction disguised as emotion, disguised as desire, disguised as love.  Motion so fluid whispers depravity behind the eyes of an angel.  There is nothing else.  She gets what she wants. You believe you have her right where you want her, but it is she who has lead the way from the first whiff of the stench of you as you entered the room.

He believes he won her
She devours his essence
vanishing at once


As she is craved, she burns your soul.  This demon who drains Hell-fire into words.
3-18-2014

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