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Asominate Oct 19
Beware of the dark, my love,
It would hunt you down.
And when you scream, my love,
There would be no sound!

And when you look around,
You'll find you're all alone

Because the art of the darkness
Can house no home.

My love, my heart harness
Darkness, this dark's my own.

Beware of my love, for dark-
Ness lurks at your door
And if you let me in
You will be no more.

Yes, I know this for sure
'Cause if you come around

Come take a look, see my hooks
They would hold you down.

My love, you're shook
Glad you took it as your way out.
I'm happy for you :')
A closed room - tight, binding
Hard to breathe, the air was sickening
The sticky stench, atmosphere thickening
Struggling to escape, fear was quickening.
Ever just felt trapped?
The hunt begins. The fur
of the white wolf
beckons me forth, along the trail
into the woods.

The smoke is the reminder of Her
initiatic journey.
The trap is set.

    She guides me into it.

Hope is a clever animal.
Builds on "A Wolf Called Hope" and "The Trap".
Nigdaw Jun 2022
I wield this body like a weapon
crash test dummy on a suicide mission
all journey and no destination
pulling fuses while the car is in motion
bodywork beat up but engine still functions
travelled to the moon and back
in miles but not realization
put here on this torture track
an illusion of freedom mixed with
fear and excitement
the windshield has gone
and the seatbelt is broken
Draginja Knezi May 2021
behind the curtain
is uncertain
flowers and claps
a window perhaps
or just a glass
for a glance
into the past
after all
it is behind
it’s this wall
that makes me small
it’s this mind
that makes me fall
may 2021
Nylee Apr 2021
You know she is waiting.
You know she is
on her feet to
be seen by you.
her life goes
where you be,
her thoughts are
in your favour

You notice, don't you
You feel you
deserve it, don't you
You like your control
make it your choice
while you pursue
Your goals,
She'll wait
In your trap
Convenient, isn't it.

She may wait for now
She may wish you well
tomorrow too
But luck runs out
not to doubt
And then, there'll be
a sense of regret
You chose this
Choices breaks you
Jason Mar 2021

I am a mouse tempted by scent of cheese,

                                                        ­      I am a little lever,
                                                    by wightish weight released.

                                                                     I am the

         Tip me over and off I go,

                                        just as mapped,

                                                       Chain reactions
                                                                ­               crashing
                                                                ­                          choreographed.

                                                 ­               I am the ball bearing on its
                                                                ­                                     tilted track,

                                                         ­            Precariously poised
                                                                ­    awaiting that last flat

                                                               ­               CRACK!

                                                       ­    Startling astart at starting gun,

Gravity-well-willing I wobbly-spin-roll-run,

                                          ­                Back and forth I wander like a top,

Dizzily confused when off the end I
                                                                ­     plop.

                                                  It's alright, everyone, I'm okay,

This cup was here to catch me...              luckily.

                                                  Ah, I'm the cup too, of course,

                                      Rattling 'round rampant without remorse.

                              It's not a problem, I've already served my purpose,

                                  Ball-bearing-brained, I was useful for impetus.

                                  Downward-driven delivering incidental dues,

                         I am now the toy robot set off on a cruise,

               Wheels turning, less one brain (lest I hurt myself)

        Wound-up tight only to travel the length of a shelf.

Gears ground, I spark-stumble-halt,

      I've kicked the bucket, but it's nobodies fault:

                I'm also the water cascading through air,

                                                           ­   Splashing happily,
                                                        but predictably,
                                                   to be fair.

                            Sloppily graceful I stick the landing,

Releasing the cage, design-demanding.

 ­                      robot

I might even be the little mouses tiny outrage.

It seems I was all the pieces of the trap I set,

Honestly, everything fits just fine, except:

We seem to be missing one of the architects.
© 03/02/21 Jason R. Michie All Rights Reserved
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