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Sam Nov 2016
Don't. you. dare.

Rage builds up again,
Fury spills over,
A burning passion smothers all else.

Hypocrisy discovered,
Attitude noted.

I don't think you realize what you're doing.

Adding kindling to the fire,
sending an explosion through the blaze,
letting the flames roar more than before.

Going into harms way,
Walking into the inferno

This is you're *
one
and only warning

*Back. Off.
Actions are never forgotten.
Rafael Melendez Sep 2016
You are my Dante, you are my Vergil, you are my Beatrice, you are my devil. You are the spineless and endless tortured souls of men and woman who form horizons that never seem to end. You are the hung bodies in the trees of death, you are Cleopatra and Antony. In that never ending tornado of lust, cursed to spin and spin, conjoined in cursed love. You are the undeserving unborn who are tortured before they've ever even breathed dear life.

And I, I am only another accursed undead.
Tehreem Sep 2016
The glimpse of shadow in light of dark
He burned her heart of paperwork
Spilled gasoline of demise to soak her
She swallowed the fire of his pride
Erased from surface of existence
He catapulted her to demonic inferno
A monster cloaked in red and smoke
Worshipped the goddess of golden hate
My love fire of love has made me inferno
But it is your beauty which made me aglow
Cupid has made my heart injured with arrow
My sweetheart you are my heroine I am hero

Let me take from your beauty some dew drops
So seeds of love should grow up to real crops
Love with beauty dance hand in hand on hilltops
Allow your beauty to have with love swaps

What is love a fiery hell what beauty is to dwell
My sweetheart I am constantly under your spell
Being an iconoclast I am a reformer and a rebel
Please refine my state of love with beauty to excel


Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Tehreem Jul 2016
She is raising his inferno
Where his demons lurked
He is a dark monster king
His thoughts are blasting
Then she turns into a serpent
And rules that kingdom
Spewing the most vile venom
Spinning the webs of desire
Fanning flames of the hate
Burning the poison of love
Our very own hell.
Viseract Jul 2016
A kindling
A fire
An inferno
A pyre
Smouldering away within

A bitterness
A taste
A poison
Called fate
Combined and I might just sin
Tell me what you think. Not you Woody. *******
Max C Styles May 2016
I don't know how it came to be
To have so many holes in me
But here I cry
By and by
Bleeding from the heart
Where so many rivers start.

I cannot explain
This inexorable pain
As I cross this river Styx
Wondering how I'd come to this
But here I am
****** and Dammed
Crying cold tears
Wondering what fate nears.

I remain here with the ferryman
Wondering how I was ever a merry man.
Crying my tears of blood
Just as any man would.
Touched so high in grace
****** for all my race.
So burning is this torment
Yet cold, silent, and dormant.

But I am no betrayer.         No, Not yet
No sin increases my fare

Charon does not bring me to that gate
But rather back home to finish my fate.
For I am not dead
And it is not living that I dread.
I have only been shown this torture
So I may avoid it in future.
I have no place in that weeping forest
Just as Dante, I was but a tourist.
But so my sorrow deep and cold
Should not permeate into my old
But rather it shall remain
a past pain.

O I shall remember
these such foul members
But it is that which makes me
Not breaks me.
These are that which become me
For I shall not succumb to these.
And so these folds shall make me
stronger
Till I feels these holes,
These rivers in my heart,
These tears of blood,
This passing of the laurel,
These faults within my ore,
No longer.
Viseract May 2016
A fire in our hearts for our every desire
A match, some kindling or perhaps a lighter
Waiting for an incident, an accident or worse
To light them up, die out and wind up in a hearse

Death is what we  dread, death is our end
You can pretend to be immortal, but you can only pretend
Life is what we cling to, our unreliable friend
But when your fire dies out, life will only send

An inferno, a tornado, circling flames
Burning deep within ever since I was made
Forced into this world, this world of chaos
Wandering the streets hoping that I'll get lost

Sometimes I look up into the sky
And burn brighter than the Sun, though I'm dark as night
Praying to God oh no, God please help me!
God save me, God you made me, God just take me!

And I hear nothing, nor do I see sign
Of He who lives above, He so divine
Abandoned by the figure who claimed to love me!
No-one left, just my fire and me, so I'll wait till I cease to be!
b for short Feb 2016
My mind resembles something like
a rabid VCR—baring its teeth,
foaming, unapologetic, at the mouth,
rewinding and replaying and repeating
all of the small cuts of two people
I swear I used to know and love.
Rerunning a patchwork reel of the scenes
I can stand to remember—
(which is all of them when I’m feeling
particularly masochistic).
Rhythmic static travels from
top to bottom of my mind’s eye—
a familiar flaw, cracking and popping
as the picture struggles to come clear.
I try to stop it—all of it.
Rip plug from outlet—
throw this snarling archaic beast
against some unsuspecting wall.
But it’s made in the good ol’ US of A
and runs on something
a bit more complicated than
any energy they can send me a bill for.
So I'm stuck
in this cyclical hell,
where there is no fresh air,
and the only oxygen I can get
has to be ****** through
a barely functioning dollar store crazy straw.
And, really, my only anger is directed at Dante
for not including this part
in his little ditty about the Inferno.
I swear I’d take
trying and failing
to escape a river of boiling blood
over whatever it is that causes me
to create a dramatic VCR metaphor
any day.
© Bitsy Sanders, February 2016
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