I come upon a rickety old bridge, glancing down I wonder what it would be like to float free. Free of this life and all that it brings. That would be something else entirely.
Lost in thought, I soon realize I'm being watched. Looking to my right, I see a tall faceless figure in between the barren trees. It just stands there staring at me. What does it want?
I move along the bridge, my heart racing at every step. I hope my time has not come, for I want to leave on my own accord. I stop just short of a rotting board. I hear nothing but eerie silence.
My heart still racing, I turn around, noticing the figure is there no more. What could this possibly mean for me? Is it really my time? Am I being lead to my untimely demise? These questions remain unanswered.
Next thing I know, I fall through the floor. The last thing I see before I hit the water below, is that figure again even slender than before. The last face I'll ever see, is that faceless figure staring back at me. The Slenderman.
The master called forth their students To carve their names in stone The eternal bond eroding the tablet The cobble roaring and rolling Along the beak of the mountain pass
The master chiseled their marks; The students followed - their hammers Slamming in unison, the sonorous ringing; A symphony of erosion on the brittle plate
Elated by the performance, the stone screamed It echoed through the valley
"Fear not", the master preached and turned to their students "The bond of stone is as brittle as paper but holds our names for eternity" They shackled a sevenfold amongst the surface and punctured the heavens
Glimmering in the sunlight, the incandescence of the molten stone Passed through the iridium stakes - the fractured hammers
A carving of pain, created by the love the students held per desperation Students of the broken stone, their efforts unspoken; The mold of a statue of hope stood in eternity Their love echoing through the valley
Addiction makes me a sick clown watching a killer circus filled with empty seats and dead animals.
This wickedly twisted world spins me around like a broken carnival ride that goes faster and faster. While chuckling ******* wear plaster smiles I sit sick and vomiting spewing lines of black ink half-truths obscured by metaphors and similes.
The nightmare men stare and grin at me military twin to the police wearing violence menacingly strangling the landscape with rubble, mace, mud, glass, bullets, and blood.
I would wear goggles to protect me from their blood soaked insanity but I prefer to look with crystal clear chlorine eyes that burn the very core of me.
I am a sick ******* Sweet friend Emotion fiend Seeking stories Wanting your gorgeous pain To hold To harbor The albatross At the arbor Flying to the dying ship That weight around your neck That anchors you to **** That razor blade You want to use to cut it I am a vampire of sorrows ******* up injustice Then spitting these flitting verses Back out like sputum So others can use them To make us all more human Though my wrists cramp with heartbreaks I still write at night by lampshade Sipping small vials of nightshade Hoping to take your pain away And plant posies with all that poison
Spyglassman, The watcher. Far removed, untouching, Still distant; Keep Vigil! Watch over, Leave us not, Our watcher — — Spyglassman
This one is just a comedic piece I wrote while watching an old man surveying the sea with his spyglass the other day. I was just reflecting on life and the ways in which we amuse ourselves. I'd be happy to hear thoughts, critiques, or feedback, but know that this is more an over-dramatization of a character I observed from a distance for a few hours. It is not something I have put great thought, effort, or care into.