#anna - Hello Poetry

Anna Red hair fell like fire on her thin shoulders. Her wide, open eyes, now seemed sunken in, and sadness, for a moment, lingered there. This was her last night on earth. She again, ran through the events that took place earlier that night. When she was with him, in the back of the Impala. Images of the car's windows glossed with a sheen of steam, blazed across her mind. A smile blazed across her face. She thought of his smile and her own widened. She thought of the way he touched her, so gently, like a feather moving over her. The way he left kisses in a trail across her skin. The way he held her, as if nothing on the earth could ever take her away. Not in that moment. But there are more than the kind and protecting angels in this world. There are demons. But even so, worse are the angels that have turned their backs on heaven and now work for the forces of evil. The angels that would tear their comrades from this world. The angels among the demons. Crowley Black. Black as dark as night. Black as dark as the inner reaches of the earth. Black as dark as death itself. Black like blood. Red. Red as deep as warm, copper veins. Red as deep as magma beneath the earth. Red as deep as rage at the sign of betrayal. Red like smoke. Twisted. Splashes of agony and hatred and remorse stained his tattered soul. A true evil radiated from his vessel. A crafty and malicious essence raced through his veins. But he was no Lucifer. Somewhere, deep down, there was still a man who longed to be loved. A man who longed to be forgiven of his cruel mistakes in his past life. Deep down, there was still a man who longed to come back to the light. In a world so dark as his, the only light was the fire, which should have brought comfort, but only brought pain. Deep down, he liked the dark. Mary Hair like threads of spun gold tangled around her face. She was fair with bright blue eyes that held hues as heavenly as the sun-beaten sky. Soft, angular cheekbones sloped gently down, a tinge of pink, coloring them slightly. Locks of her wavy hair met her shoulders but beneath her fair appearance, she was a rough girl. A hunter. She had seen things most terrible in the world, thinks that no one should ever see. And still, he remained a loving mother and a kind person in spite of her demons. Sam Echoes of a former friend rang throughout his conscious mind. Mischievous and sinister laughter danced around in his head like demons howling and gibbering in the night. He could feel his brother's presence and the angel too, but felt only more unnerved because he knew he was the only one who could hear the voices. Another shrill scream pierced his ears and he ducked, holding his head between two shaking palms. Bright flashes of color exploded at the corners of his vision and danced around his eyes like a psychedelic kaleidoscope. He went spiraling again in his mind and every color blinked out, like a light. Everything went dark as the psychotic laughter echoed throughout his skull. Castiel Over the hill moved a creature, round and Glowing with a cold, white light. Like a spectacular Moonrise. It had hundreds and hundreds of Eyes in every imaginable color, faceted Like jewels that covered wheels within wheels of It’s spherical body. It was an infinite series of intersecting Rings that spun constantly in All directions. Like a gyroscope. The rings looked like steel but The substance was Pearlescent and, like an oil slick, Contained all of the rainbow within it. Steel-like whips caressed the ground And skies as it moved. And at its center stood two Wings, upright. Feathers made from the metallic Material rippled in the air. Around the wings pooled a Sticky, warm light. A sheen of phosphorescent light coated the Feathers and pooled around the wings. Dean Through the windshield, the soft glow of a solitary streetlight glistened over his cheekbones and poured down his jaw that had grown taught from rapt contemplation. His coarse, sandy-brown hair, was messed from his last tango with a monster. Brilliant flecks of gold danced around in his hazel eyes, entwining with years of past remorse and echoes of both sad and happy memories of being on the road. He kept a firm hold of the wheel, gently guiding the old muscle car down the road. Tears prickled behind his gorgeous, tired eyes, but didn't dare escape. The plastic army soldier stared him down, but he could pay him little mind. His brother, riding shotgun, slept sitting upright, his long, chocolate locks covering his eyes as he dreamt with his forehead against the cool window. Lucifer A luminescent beauty radiated from him. Behind his tattered vessel's eyes, a blazing light shined like a beacon in the night. The fury of a thousand suns, and the beauty of a million moons. The bright and morning star. The most magnificent in all of the angels, yet far more dark than any demon. Sinfully exquisite. Those who say he has horns have never looked upon his countenance, for the gems faceted there rival the colors of the morning skies. And a voice like silk, soft as the timid pulse, a voice that could lead you to your own destruction. Hands both so gelid and searing, you'd quiver at the touch. Hands that have brought so many to their death.

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Feb 23, 2021

Feb 23, 2021 at 11:52 PM UTC

lifeasalyric

7 Supernatural Poems

Anna Red hair fell like fire on her thin shoulders. Her wide, open eyes, now seemed sunken in, and sadness, for a moment, lingered there. This was her last night on earth. She again, ran through the events that took place earlier that night. When she was with him, in the back of the Impala. Images of the car's windows glossed with a sheen of steam, blazed across her mind. A smile blazed across her face. She thought of his smile and her own widened. She thought of the way he touched her, so gently, like a feather moving over her. The way he left kisses in a trail across her skin. The way he held her, as if nothing on the earth could ever take her away. Not in that moment. But there are more than the kind and protecting angels in this world. There are demons. But even so, worse are the angels that have turned their backs on heaven and now work for the forces of evil. The angels that would tear their comrades from this world. The angels among the demons. Crowley Black. Black as dark as night. Black as dark as the inner reaches of the earth. Black as dark as death itself. Black like blood. Red. Red as deep as warm, copper veins. Red as deep as magma beneath the earth. Red as deep as rage at the sign of betrayal. Red like smoke. Twisted. Splashes of agony and hatred and remorse stained his tattered soul. A true evil radiated from his vessel. A crafty and malicious essence raced through his veins. But he was no Lucifer. Somewhere, deep down, there was still a man who longed to be loved. A man who longed to be forgiven of his cruel mistakes in his past life. Deep down, there was still a man who longed to come back to the light. In a world so dark as his, the only light was the fire, which should have brought comfort, but only brought pain. Deep down, he liked the dark. Mary Hair like threads of spun gold tangled around her face. She was fair with bright blue eyes that held hues as heavenly as the sun-beaten sky. Soft, angular cheekbones sloped gently down, a tinge of pink, coloring them slightly. Locks of her wavy hair met her shoulders but beneath her fair appearance, she was a rough girl. A hunter. She had seen things most terrible in the world, thinks that no one should ever see. And still, he remained a loving mother and a kind person in spite of her demons. Sam Echoes of a former friend rang throughout his conscious mind. Mischievous and sinister laughter danced around in his head like demons howling and gibbering in the night. He could feel his brother's presence and the angel too, but felt only more unnerved because he knew he was the only one who could hear the voices. Another shrill scream pierced his ears and he ducked, holding his head between two shaking palms. Bright flashes of color exploded at the corners of his vision and danced around his eyes like a psychedelic kaleidoscope. He went spiraling again in his mind and every color blinked out, like a light. Everything went dark as the psychotic laughter echoed throughout his skull. Castiel Over the hill moved a creature, round and Glowing with a cold, white light. Like a spectacular Moonrise. It had hundreds and hundreds of Eyes in every imaginable color, faceted Like jewels that covered wheels within wheels of It’s spherical body. It was an infinite series of intersecting Rings that spun constantly in All directions. Like a gyroscope. The rings looked like steel but The substance was Pearlescent and, like an oil slick, Contained all of the rainbow within it. Steel-like whips caressed the ground And skies as it moved. And at its center stood two Wings, upright. Feathers made from the metallic Material rippled in the air. Around the wings pooled a Sticky, warm light. A sheen of phosphorescent light coated the Feathers and pooled around the wings. Dean Through the windshield, the soft glow of a solitary streetlight glistened over his cheekbones and poured down his jaw that had grown taught from rapt contemplation. His coarse, sandy-brown hair, was messed from his last tango with a monster. Brilliant flecks of gold danced around in his hazel eyes, entwining with years of past remorse and echoes of both sad and happy memories of being on the road. He kept a firm hold of the wheel, gently guiding the old muscle car down the road. Tears prickled behind his gorgeous, tired eyes, but didn't dare escape. The plastic army soldier stared him down, but he could pay him little mind. His brother, riding shotgun, slept sitting upright, his long, chocolate locks covering his eyes as he dreamt with his forehead against the cool window. Lucifer A luminescent beauty radiated from him. Behind his tattered vessel's eyes, a blazing light shined like a beacon in the night. The fury of a thousand suns, and the beauty of a million moons. The bright and morning star. The most magnificent in all of the angels, yet far more dark than any demon. Sinfully exquisite. Those who say he has horns have never looked upon his countenance, for the gems faceted there rival the colors of the morning skies. And a voice like silk, soft as the timid pulse, a voice that could lead you to your own destruction. Hands both so gelid and searing, you'd quiver at the touch. Hands that have brought so many to their death.