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They call him the King of Horror
He’s a walking Armageddon
A nightmare given flesh
Made to rot and decay
Just like everything else
I call him by the barcode
Written right on his brain
Nihilson

CHORUS 1:
With an empty stomach and heart
There is no hope from the start
That’s how he was designed
To cut our world down to size

From the penthouse fat cats
To the downtown thugs
No man or child is safe
From his marrow touch
And his eyes of hate
They see no happiness
No truth or dare
Just bugs and cocktails
Waiting to be spilled
Till every drop is gone
He won’t rest in peace
Until life is dead


CHORUS 2:
With an empty stomach and heart
There is no love from the start
That’s how he was designed
(God help our wretched souls)
To tear the world down to size
He’s cut the world down to size

Is he the King of Horror?
Can he crawl out of the grave
And into our dreams?
Is there no stopping him?
Will our minds be wiped clean
So we can suffer no longer?
Will we not even remember
How Nihilson came to be?
What does it matter?
We are who we will be
From one monster to another
It’s all a bad dream
That’s all we can dream
To be heard and never seen
That’s who we will be
If we don’t wake up and see
This poem is a tribute to "King of Horror", one of the songs in Splendid Fred Records' album "This Changes Everything (11 Songs About Climate Change)". When listening to the song, I imagined the titular King of Horror being a severely disfigured assassin, almost similar to Marvel's Deadpool but far more sinister. Also, the name "Nihilson" is a portmanteau of the name "Nilson" and the word "nihil". I originally wrote this back on February 5th 2018.
Carlo C Gomez Mar 12
They prefer the dark corners in a theatre
Places adjacent to a snack bar
But close enough to the exit
Because killers on strings
Always eat on the run

They're sown from a different cloth
Brains made of the same
Course material
As flailing arms and legs
To form one disturbing pattern

They make such good liquidators
For their eyes are dead
Their heart lifeless and unbeaten
Their long fingers perfect
For a bit of good-natured strangulation

Never mind though
We must first tip our hats
To those who truly pull the strings
Hosting kid puppet shows by day
Hiring out cute cuddly fiends after hours
Prossnip42 Mar 2
Him
There's a shape in the shadows
There's a chill in the air
But he won't let you get rattled
You won't know that he's there
There's no way to do battle, when you're caught unaware
One blink and he'll be gone and you'll be dead in your chair

Or was he even there
Can you even prepare
For a reckoning, a second into catching the glare
Of a barrel when the bullet's already in the air
Or the chemicals already have your vision impaired

As you try to place the face of that sommelier
When you're about to win the race but find the breaks aren't there
On a knife's edge, placed between the fumes and the flare
The last breath...with a glove in your hair

He's an artist with a knife
He will catch you by surprise
There's no faster a demise
Were you happy with your life
Cause you didn't have the time left for it to flash before your eyes

The sound of a coin on the ground
And not a shred of evidence will ever be found
Your death will be swift, without any sound
Ain't it tragic how a man can accidentally drown?
A poem about a monster, making his living like a monster
Cazandra Leia Oh Sep 2015
We determine who we are
By what we do.
The choices we've made
Forever our own.
The flip switch we never saw
Is hidden in you.
Xan Abyss May 2015
Skilled in the art of bloodshed
A rogue of the ancient clan
a sinister viper striking silently with a deadly hand
The sound of his blade in the distance
Is your only chance of escape
Before the Ancient Assassin comes to sever your life away

Nothing to live for, nowhere is safe
Stick to the light if you wish to escape

Fear not the weapon but the hand that wields it
Beware the shadows if you value your life
Silent and deadly he strikes in the darkness
Beware the shadows and you may survive

Once the proudest warrior in the clan of the Black Sand
A master of the prehistoric art of hit man
Black he feels inside, no beauty left in life
Vengeance and destruction - his last will and command

Nothing to live for, nowhere is safe
Stick to the light if you wish to escape
Far from the shadows, stay in the light
For when darkness surrounds you, you will surely die.

Fear not the weapon but the hand that wields it
Beware the shadows if you value your life
Silent and deadly he strikes in the darkness
Beware the shadows and you may survive
NINJA ASSASSIN

— The End —