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erin Oct 2018
The necromancer danced on her grave. The ground shook with every step the witch took, rumbling the ground beneath and making the corpse she had planted cling to the cool dirt for dear death. And then, the dirt began to give.

Sunlight burned on the girl’s blue skin, turning it a ghastly shade of porcelain like Wednesday Addams. She rolled over in her grave, and closed her eyes, refusing the inevitable fate of the undead. But her wings started flapping, and she rose up, the witches hand clawing into her back and dragging her back to life. And as the screeching of the megalomaniac forced her wide eyes open and the dried ancient blood away, she wished she were dead.
i'd appreciate criticism- i really want to improve my poetry game. if you can guess what this is about, i'd love to hear it.
Emi Jay Sep 2018
Leather suits you
because you, too
were alive once
and are now dead;
and the bright red
— oh, sweet bloodshed! —
vanishes on black
Bobby Dodds Sep 2018
night just wants some sun and the sun wants to sleep
but neither can get either with being alone every week.
some people sleep all alone every night
and that's what scares me to death.
am I one of these fools,
or can I follow these rules.
and that's why I'm so scared of my bed.
the monsters in the closet are just my memory's in deposit.
so I can sleep like the rest of the dead.
i know i'm not one
to laugh or complain
but weirdly my pain,
is the only thing
that wants to keep me sane.
for better or worse, we all have a Cain.
who would stick us in the heart.
if only he could remain.
the many monsters in this world do you good, causing pain by keeping us still[ sane
Sara Kellie Jun 2018
In your sun I know I'll drown.
So, I rise when it goes down.
Add all my years, I am so old.
Yet, I'll never feel your cold.
Your punctured skin are signs you're dead
but that to me means I am fed.
I'll lure you in with fake romance.
The lies I'll tell, you'll take a chance.
Allaying your fears, I'll promise you years.
Then, muffled screams that no one hears.
So what you see as silver and gold
in reality, a death so cold.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Romancing the undead.
Unlikely to get pregnant,
more disemboweled in your bed.
Aa Harvey Apr 2018
Off to battle again.

Another day, another battle, another day to amuse one’s self.
Looking out into the shadowy forest, in search of an acquaintance.
Wolf howls signal the return of the Princes and all is well.
The war has been won and the undead soldiers have been demolished.

Moonlight hovers over the home of the Elves
And inside the forest I find myself,
Hunting the hunter; under darkened skies.
A wolf dives at me and I open fire.

The arrow strikes its head and it falls down dead in the snow.
Its companions will be here somewhere, so I will be ready to fire again.
An elf appears from the mist, so I lower my bow;
It’s good to see you again, old friend.

He tells me of a quest to the undead hordes lair
And after shopping for provisions,
We head off with our band of merry friends.
The healer is annoying, but he will be needed when we get there;
So we allow him his flaws and his errors are not mentioned.

Once more into the darkness; we head into war
And all around us, the skeletons fall.
We grow stronger with age, before, during and after.
At the end of the day, we are new to this no more.

(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2018
When a relationship dies
The victim is not always
The one left behind

Sometimes the better half
Innocent and naive
Is the one holding the blade

After being stabbed
Countless times til nearly dead
They have the right to live

When both brutal options
End in blood and homicide
Their forced decision is life

Only one heart remains alive
To bear the shame of pain on the knife
It wasnt the good part who deserved to die

He was selfish and suffocating
She stayed true always stifling
Screams that swallowed her soul

The inflicter of secret wounds
Now has his own cuts to bear
Fatal yet deserving

Murdered by the angel
Too scarred to be recognized
By wounds he readily dealt

Changed into a phantom, only choice;
**** what caused her death inside
Her best friend, a beautiful corpse

His undead body moves
She put out the fire in his eyes
Though both ghosts stopped breathing

They unwillingly survive
This took me forever to write! I am not very good at freeverse if you couldn't tell by the off rhymes i gravitated towards the end. I do like it though.
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