Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#ashesofthehazbindream
He stood encased in silence, though his heart began to break The first real crack in decades that a soul could ever make He did not wrap his arms around her, nor did he turn to fly But a glint of silver gathered in the corner of his eye The static of his presence wavered, thin and out of tune Like a lonely radio playing to a cold and blood-red moon He felt the warmth she offered, the salt upon her skin Yet even as his spirit wept, he maintained that jagged grin He stood encased in silence, though his heart began to break The first real crack in decades that a soul could ever make He did not wrap his arms around her, nor did he turn to fly But a glint of silver gathered in the corner of his eye The static of his presence wavered, thin and out of tune Like a lonely radio playing to a cold and blood-red moon He felt the warmth she offered, the salt upon her skin Yet even as his spirit wept, he maintained that jagged grin A tear escaped, a traitor to his carefully crafted art But the smile remained unwavering, tearing him apart He knew the world expected him to be the one they saw So the grin held fast, a prison built by his own law The static grew around him, a shield against the pain A broadcast of indifference, a desperate, silent rain And though his eyes betrayed the storm that raged within his soul The grin stayed fixed, a testament to his unbreakable control
0
Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 2:04 PM UTC
A Smile of Salt and Static (the sixth one in the series)
The crimson haze began to clear as static filled her ears A rhythmic, scratching melody that cut through all her fears She turned to see the silhouette amidst the drifting smoke And for a fleeting heartbeat, the spell of fury broke The shadow stretched, the antlers rose, the dial-tone hummed deep A presence from the rubble that the grave refused to keep "Alastor?" she whispered, her voice a fractured thing While shadows danced around him like a puppet on a string He brushed the soot from off his sleeve and straightened out his bow His eyes like glowing radio dials, a terrifying glow "Why, Charlie, dear, you look surprised! Did you think the show was through? The curtains may have fallen, but I'm still here with you." The fire in her heart flickered, a mix of hope and dread To find a living soul among the mountains of the dead But as he grinned his jagged grin, she saw the truth so plain The Demon hadn't come to mourn, but to revel in the reign She clutched her hands, her knuckles white, her power pulsing red The only friend still standing where the others lay in bed A partner in the wreckage, a witness to the fall As the Radio Demon’s laughter echoed through the hollowed hall
0
Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 1:26 PM UTC
Hope and Dread in the Rubble (the fourth poem in the series)
The static died to a low hum as she crossed the scorched divide The fury in her golden veins pushed suddenly aside She didn't stop to question how he’d braved the holy spear She only knew the silence broke because he now was near Through the ash and bitter smoke, she ran with desperate pace Ignoring all the soot and blood that stained his smiling face She reached him in a flurry, a ghost of what she’d been And pressed her lips against the mouth of that eternal grin The Radio Demon froze in place, his antlers rigid high As green and crimson lightning sparked across the velvet sky A touch of warmth, a human spark, amidst the cold decay The first soft thing she’d felt since all the rest were torn away He didn't pull away this time, nor mock her with a jest His static softened to a beat within his hollow chest In the ruins of their dream, where death had left its mark Two monsters held each other in the gathering of the dark
0
Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 1:28 PM UTC
The Rhythm of a Hollow Chest (the fifth poem in the series)