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Greyisntwell Sep 2020
Haunted

Cold and alone
Silent like the dead
A last request
To escape

Chants get louder
Senses are drowned out.
Are we the dead?
Is this our hell?

Cast us away into the wind
He calls your name, you are denied
The Forest whispers our prayers
Cold and alone

Dawn is now arriving
Driven into the ground
6 ft below

Alone…
No words to say
No emotions
We walk alone

No haven
We spiral down
This grave is now our home.
It's about the ghost colony of Roanoke
Greyisntwell Sep 2020
All the roses


Light the sage

Throw the linens across the bed

Say a prayer

You look good dead


All of the roses

Thrown away

All of the roses

That reminded me of the love

I once had for you

All the roses


Arranged around the heart 

They remind me that you 

Were my favorite piece of art

Pages stained with dust and old words

Showing our adoration 


All of the roses 

Light the sage

Bless your soul

Open the window

All of the roses

I’ll remember you…
It's about the old ritual of a wake.
MisfitOfSociety Aug 2020
Zombie girl,

Do you weep,
For those you ****?
Do you feel cold,
Without your second soul?

Zombie girl,

Skeleton’s always smile.
Your skin’s getting colder,
Like a winter in your summer.

Zombie girl,

You’re an open casket,
Something warm died inside it.

Zombie girl,

Hang it up in your closet.
Don’t forget to close it.


Skeleton,
In the house of the living.
It’s like being alive,
But never being able to die.

Dissection,
On the surgeon’s table.
Gave its soul to death,
And she said her first goodbye.

She opened up,
The bee and the flower bud.
Carnivore,
She slammed her petals shut.

Why does it matter to you?
It belongs to me.
I stole its air,
That makes it free.

Hung it from an umbilical cord,
Tied under a broken crescent moon.
A stranger wore your skin,
Now they’re buried inside a human coffin.

She sung along to carols of the needle man.
Stillborn chorus of the cold dead thing in her hand.

She felt it die.
I heard the crocodile cry.
When she gave her first goodbye.
Kale Aug 2020
I guess I am dead now
The love that kept me grounded
Was whisked away by
The cruel hand of misfortune
And I was a fool
I didn't see it coming
The idea that I was hoping
Things would be long lasting
I was wrong
Now my cold heart beats
Twice as slow
Will you cry at my funeral
My love?
I'm sorry
I should have been there
To protect you
To love you
To fight for you harder
But you know fate
Always giving me the bad cards
In any case
I think I am leaving this earthly plane
And I'm sorry
I couldn't hold on
I couldn't live in this broken world
Without you
Mitch Prax Jul 2020
It's a long way to
utopia so make sure
to bring your coffin

8:37 PM
26/7/20
Katie Jul 2020
salt in the wounds.
slab laid out on stainless steel

deathbed-

it is a bed after all,
a bed is for sleep and comfort dreams

but more often than not
i thrash in to it

trying to break the ribs of my
nightmares.
Veronica John Jul 2020
Do not send me flowers until I'm dead
You need not pretend you ever cared
Save those tears for another time
Life will not go per your design

How long will you keep tearing my wings
How will you pay the price of your sins
To k*ll someone with just your words
To cage me in , under the sword

It's easy to lock me behind the door
And wipe the blood you spilled on the floor
But Even if I die a thousand deaths
I won't be a victim of your threats

No more being your slave
I'd rather lie in a grave
I'll stich my wings and fly away
You can no longer turn my blue skies to grey
I'll fight back ...I can and I will
Watch me
fray narte Jul 2020
i have sealed all the papercuts on my skin;
they have become unmarked,
untended graves
and the willows have long learned
to do their weeping in the dark;
and now,
there can never be enough tears,
never enough mourners
dressed in all the shades of black
to share all this grief
in its most abstract form.

oh, to hear the farewells,
to feel the poems,
to see the wreaths
tossed all over the place
and yet, there can never be enough flowers in the world
to hide these wrists —
all scars and lines for everyone to see
and everyone to read
as if epitaphs to a gravestone;

these wrists —
all scratches from a girl buried by mistake;
the casket, the ground
can only do so much.

oh, such
morbid
thoughts
from such
a morbid
girl;

little one,
you write way too much about death
and his earthly belongings.


maybe one day he'll do the same.
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