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D A W N Jan 8
the level of expertise of how he slit their throat would send a butcher and a surgeon to their knees.
a mad man, none could abate his impending insanity growing inside of him rapidly.
all these blind sighted mice worshipped a killer feigned in modesty and grace.
a murderer could neither be a man in rags or a man clad with wealth and class.
regardless, their masquerade of charm is as deadly as the knife they wield, leads to their victory of escape, the thought disgusts me.
who knew behind your cherry coated lips and hands that are ready to hold would be capable of
bringing death.
11/28/2020
nearlyapoet Apr 2021
Mama, i killed someone--
I cut her throat and drowned her to death.
She stabbed me several times and so i choked her.
Mama, im afraid;
will they know i am the murderer?
I buried her body somewhere not far.
Now dead men tell no tales.
Mama, i killed someone--
I killed her in my poem.
anonymousthinker Feb 2021
I know it's one of them
one of them has the knife
3 have been lost 5 remain
a cold blooded killer is on the loose
with no outside help
we're all as good as dead

At least that's what I tell myself
I was woken in the night
she shook me awake
"we found something" she says
I see him with the knife
it's covered in blood

"I didn't do it I swear"
he begs saying he had nothing to do with it
then we take the knife
and give him what he gave us
we go back to sleep
to search for help in the morning

I wake up to see blood on my hands
I feel something cold under my pillow
I reach and see the knife
I clean it and put it where it used to be
was he even the murderer?

Someone's missing I think
he's missing
know there are only three
it's her or him
but who?

I hear a snap
he's dead
it was her!
it's just you and me
she says
an evil smile appears on her face
the last thing I see
I was bored. And I had recently played among us. My add brain randomly connected thoughts and formed an idea. In less than a second, I had something to do.
Alex Braun Jan 2021
i am destruction in its own form.

i am a gas leak
you have never encountered before.

i don't tick like the bomb you're used to.

i have dangerous hands,
they've killed thousands of me.

i am a serial killer of self.
photovoltaic Dec 2020
Just as you are different to me,
I cannot understand you.
Every move you make
Every thought, expression
That passes across your eyes;

They say eyes are the window into the soul
But your eyes are expressionless
Blank as a stone slate
Cold as a stone slate

How could you **** someone?
Don't you feel guilty?
The dark malice hidden away in those beautiful eyes
Spur-of-the-moment thoughts, uncontrollable impulses.

How did I fall for you?
People still ask me, every day.
Do you still love her?
How do I answer that?

All those memories we shared,
Every photo taken,
I still look back at them, sometimes.
And feel the toxic rush of happiness
Of fondness, of love.
Love for a serial killer.

While you comforted me,
Gently held me,
Assuring me,
Everything was going to be alright,
You tortured, tore apart others
Who were different from me.

You're a murderer, a criminal.
You took a life, intentional
Every move and calculated plan
All executed like a falling guillotine.
Unstoppable. Deadly.

How did I fall for you?
People still ask me.
I still remember, the memories we shared.
Every gentle word and loving touch,
Filling me with toxic happiness.

How did I fall for you?
How do I answer that?
The best answer, I think,

Is that you were different.
again i have no idea what im writing **** pls send help
Àŧùl Jun 2020
Robert Clive.
He was an agent of the Brutish British,
And he brought misery to my Bhaarat.
My HP Poem #1854
©Atul Kaushal
Fheyra May 2020
In the swirling zephyr,
The grass dances weakly
I heard an escort,– Awaits my way to the Wolf Hall.

A triumphant sinister;—
My broken pleasure,— How lovely to see thy scraps again..
Such a bounty hunter
What the gods want now?

Doth not turn me around!—
Doth not hang me!
If thou loose my ties,—
Thou wilt be a murderer of all vines!

Spare me!— I am not thy prey;
I am not one of Greek's peccant,
Please, off loathing my purity!

This predator devoured me..
The ****** of his dark matter, stabbed me..

The mob held me captive,— by net traps
The culprit lies next to me—
Acted one alike raw; then I was sacked,
I felt the bethel was mocked,—
But my Lord won't despise me.

A paralyzed arrest screeched me
I was stroke— by a vermin quenched for meat..

Thou art the most cherished
It is still me..
Scattered with mud,
Dressed in a blanket;
Hoping to kiss thee
Bend for belief,— and not forgiveness
Wherefor thy body shivers?
Thy cup is condensing,
Lips ill-looking;
Red flames changing blue—
Am I still the hue?
I sensed—
Thou fell into the pit
My shreds, thy lust
The roots art on the tip of thy nails!

An ancestral plague poisoning whoever sits,—
And bridesmaking is a promiscuous habit—
To grasp a braided hair,— for an accessory
Behold, the lineage of romantic paintings,
Whence the bonds turn to heist
Looting innocence and staying in history...
In this 4th sequence, the queen met her former lover, but it turns out to be a nightmare rendezvous. He ***** her, for a reward, that she could be dethroned. He made it look like thaf she made love with him by making her unconscious, and after, some people saw it, and thought she committed adultery. Her husband was there when the people saw his wife and the man. Who would ever thought himself, the king, planned this, for he has another woman. The last stanza reveals the political and immoral ways of monarchy.
Sarah Feb 2020
Liberty liberty
We chant
Peaceful peaceful
Our voices rise
Seeking a dream
Seeking a homeland
....
Blood blood
Is all I wipe
Eyes wide open
But they see no light
Chasing a dream
Chasing a homeland
....
Tears tears
Sobs and cries
Gone forever
My beautiful man
there is no dream
There is no homeland
This is simply the story of our demonstrations. We protest peacefully, we get killed, we weep the ones who died, and protest peacefully the very next day.

As I mourn the strangers, I can’t even imagine the pain their loved ones are feeling.
TIZZOP Nov 2019
it took him two hours to
count the bills; would you
believe that?

hihihi

global network
brokers
state's attorneys
distributors
transnational trucking

not to mention the
containers

entrepreneurs like him
timeless my dear!

he descends from
a lineage of

cold-blooded
hawk-eyed
eager
men

quite brutish well but who
wouldn't fight for money?

you see?

moreover as far as
i'm concerned
we are talking about a well established
name here; engraved above monuments
nationwide

you mustn't worry
good people
clean reputations

don't look behind you
don't mind the reflection
don't try to feel the hole in
the back of your head

it's just your blood
it will be over

you have to die now
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