Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
It is said that if you read a poem called Tomino’s Hell
If read out loud things will not end well
As it is a way to summon Tomino who was cast down
For questioning & challenging Gods word
When he fell there was a crack, even the living had heard
Tomino fell from heaven, straight to hell
His mouth sowed shut for no secrets can he tell
He was not prepared with the hell he was shown
As Lucifer sits upon his mighty throne
With a surprisingly gently voice he says to not be afraid
He was not as what is imagined or portrayed
He is beyond the concept of beauty, its hard to explain
The torture, once you think there can’t be a higher pain
It gets worse; seemingly endless you start to go insane
Like heaven, each hell is designed just for you, none are the same
In Tomino’s you are constantly ripped apart
And a sensation, like someone squeezing your heart
Then it gets really dangerous & bad when you start to yearn
For the pain and the sweet, agonizing burn
Some may escape to the land of the living, but they always return
Especially Tomino who always brings a soul in tow
So whatever you do, don’t read aloud the poem below:
Tomino’s Poem
(Don’t read it, especially out loud!)
Enota ot nwod tsac neeb evah yam onimot
Enola ti o got sesufer eh tub
Oot nwod uoy gard lliw eh denommus si eh nehw os
Odnu ro epacse on si ereht, seod eh ecno
Od ot evah uoy lla s’that, doula meop eht woleb daer
Uoy rof emoc lliw onimot dna
Eurtnu si nettirw saw tahw rof
Uoy dniheb kool llew, daeh ruoy ni daer uoy fi, oob
Lley dna maercs uoy sa nwod uoy gard lliw eh
Lleh s’onimot ot emoclew dna seye ruoy nepo

Try reading it if you dare
But please beware
Because once you do
Your soul is sold to you know who
And while you are tortured, the scars on your soul adorning
Don’t say you had no warning!


Based On An Urban Legend
You can read it with a mirror ;)
fizbett Feb 21
feverish shivers
crawl through his spine
like maggots
etching putrid trails of horror
onto his soul

regret lingers in that sense-
a quiet parasite,
fixed to him
like barnacles
to a sunken hull,
a perturbation
to the fabric
of a cosmos
that named him
an orphan to the void.

his ashen hands
had reached past the veil,
stumbling upon prophecies
etched in hell-burnt cadavers
of those who sought before him,
their warnings
scattered amidst hallways
stretching beyond the confines of time
he paid no heed

𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻𝘆
in hearts of the well-intentioned.
we’re all progenies of
some nefarious past.
Adrian Clopan Jan 28
Men plunge and ****** their spears into
Pointless flesh
You've let it in through your ribben cage, and so drunkenly judged this poor exchange
Of a branch's strength to a wrench's

More wood
More wood for the fiery eyes of the younger
Isn't it good
There's new flesh for the trenches
Whom with an unquenched thirst
And a gray wolf's hunger
Ignore the flesh, rot and stenches.
Andie Lee Nov 2024
Just as the withered leaves
Fall from blighted branches
So does the joy
Dissipate from my wretched heart
As I stand here and watch
Hope disappear before my very eyes
Like ghosts in the sun
And like tears in the rain
No one noticed
©️ Andie Lee 2024
Next page