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#bloodlust
~ *Poor deluded brute he waves his sword in orchestration to a ruthless symphony played for miserable centuries: the running of the bulls "sketches of pain" some monsters come decked out in hat and cape inside the arena of his pride where he hears the chant within the arts of cowardice and cruelty where he envisions the feathered crown Gala! Gala! "how to see the toreador" lost as San Fermín pricked by hairpin pierced by ragged horn suerte de la muerte (luck of death) foreshadowing Hemingway turns into the troubled sun and underneath his muleta a deep red blood alchemy his fame spilling out in drips and drabs as the crowd sings 'Pobre de Mí (Poor Me)' to the mystic stab of church bells* ~
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Jan 12, 2022
Jan 12, 2022 at 11:46 AM UTC
Death of the Matador
Breathe in— Smell dark iron; it’s fresh. Give in— To the call of the flesh. Awaken— This feeling inside me – it’s primal. The craving, the lust – it is carnal. Forsaken— The reason, all thought – elude me. The salt and the sweet – allure me. Flow’s thick— pure. I seek— you.
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Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 1:13 PM UTC
Bloodlust
Mesmerized by what lies inside Dwells in my skull, lives in my mind Showing me, these corrupted dreams Behind my eyes, more than it seems Wilted roses, pouring rain Not a word but the roaring pain Scratching and tearing, flesh left raw Growling and biting and sharpening claws Shining eyes belie rage denied Moonlit skies, moonstruck cries Enraged and entrapped by thorns, kept safe Let us loose, witness our showcase "Your life isn't hard, it has no stress I am kindred, so I know best" Without, surveillance, how could you know I'm all wound up and I'm ready to go! Don't tell me what I have not felt Don't tell me about the cards I've been dealt You suffer too, we both suffocate Can't ease our symptoms unless we medicate! Angry you've been, angry I am! You've walked in these shoes so you should understand! Crimson is our bloodline, destroy what we hate! I hate myself so it's only my fate! Yet tell me I'm joking, call me a mimic It ****** me off so I don't want to hear it! How can you act like you knew all along I don't ******* get it, YOU'RE SO ******* WRONG! Authorities called, was a couple of years Seeing you talking, confirmed all my fears You haven't a clue, you don't understand, I have no filters, I say what I am! When I cry out for help and you tell them I'm fine I can't confess these desires for crime! You say there's no worry, you say I'm okay WHO THE **** ARE YOU TO SAY! You think you know me, you know nothing at all! YOU, KNOW, NOTHING AT ALL! YOU, KNOW, NOTHING AT ALL! YOU, KNOW, ABSOLUTELY **** ALL! So keep on talking, it amuses me so This pain and this anguish, denied by your hope Deluded you are, remember this thought: No such roses, grow such thorns!
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Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 3:12 AM UTC
Trapped by Thorns
Mesmerized by what lies inside Dwells in my skull, lives in my mind Showing me, these corrupted dreams Behind my eyes, more than it seems Wilted roses, pouring rain Not a word but the roaring pain Scratching and tearing, flesh left raw Growling and biting and sharpening claws Shining eyes belie rage denied Moonlit skies, moonstruck cries Enraged and entrapped by thorns, kept safe Let us loose, witness our showcase "Your life isn't hard, it has no stress I am kindred, so I know best" Without, surveillance, how could you know I'm all wound up and I'm ready to go! Don't tell me what I have not felt Don't tell me about the cards I've been dealt You suffer too, we both suffocate Can't ease our symptoms unless we medicate! Angry you've been, angry I am! You've walked in these shoes so you should understand! Crimson is our bloodline, destroy what we hate! I hate myself so it's only my fate! Yet tell me I'm joking, call me a mimic It ****** me off so I don't want to hear it! How can you act like you knew all along I don't ******* get it, YOU'RE SO ******* WRONG! Authorities called, was a couple of years Seeing you talking, confirmed all my fears You haven't a clue, you don't understand, I have no filters, I say what I am! When I cry out for help and you tell them I'm fine I can't confess these desires for crime! You say there's no worry, you say I'm okay WHO THE **** ARE YOU TO SAY! You think you know me, you know nothing at all! YOU, KNOW, NOTHING AT ALL! YOU, KNOW, NOTHING AT ALL! YOU, KNOW, ABSOLUTELY **** ALL! So keep on talking, it amuses me so This pain and this anguish, denied by your hope Deluded you are, remember this thought: No such roses, grow such thorns!
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44
The memories of raven black obsidian Well up at the sight of my new blade. A midnight blade, with a red groove, Running it’s own comet like streak Down the center of the curvature. The handle is made of an ebony wood, A wood as dark, if not darker than The blade it so reliably holds together. A thin silver band wraps the division Between the blade and handle, And blocks the sheath from over-sheathing. The sheath is also made of the same Shadowy wood as the handle, Giving off an aura of pure functionality. This was a weapon made purely to **** The air around the blade shadily undulates Like heartbeats through crimson arteries, Telling me it’s immense bloodlust.
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Jan 1, 2020
Jan 1, 2020 at 1:36 AM UTC
The hero’s(?) new blade
My eyes are painted red. Hearts over both of them, dripping into my mouth after some frantic, vicious event with you. How I long for this again, my fierce lover, how I long to **** with you again.
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Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 9:21 PM UTC
Heart Eyes For My Lover
Death, It's dark. Death, It happens to everything. Death, It makes me feel alive. Death, It makes my bloodlust boil. Death, It's not sad, it is poetic.
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Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 7:24 AM UTC
Death
We stomp and we romp with our filthy, bare feet we jump and we bump in the high summer heat. Just skin, nails, and teeth stop when we see blood we are the ***** girls rolling around in the mud. We're queer, we drink beer in the park in the dark we yawp, twist, and shout and we jeer and we bark. We **** for the thrill in the sweet with sweat season; we say it's revenge, but we don't need a reason. Saturated plum flesh bursting between jaws, we are boundless, we are seeping, we are love without laws.
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Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 12:19 AM UTC
Love Without Laws
The handles of time are wicked, pointy, and blood-lusting They shoot into me like bullets and never stop their gusting There is no talk on the matter on how getting out of me Their marks on my life never disappear and historic shall they be
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Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
Of Spears & Clocks
My skull is breaking... Must Control, don't loose My sanity, I can't loose My skull is breaking... I'm ill... My eyes are darkening My reasoning is fading I'm ill... My hands are itchy... I can feel it, bloodlust I want to **** absolute lust My hands are itchy... If I **** forgive me... It wasn't my doing It was her, I'm vanishing If I **** forgive me...
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Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 1:33 AM UTC
Cracks
I know some things about dirt I shed my feathers many times just like a bird Daring Always daring never preparing for the fall I fly bold with a certain confidence but so very shy hold a truth to obedience when the voice tells me to abide holding evidence of bloodlust at night Maybe not a bird then but a bat when feeling a strong hunger for your crimson liquor in the dark I reach out to my monger won't you be my cherry picker I'll draw the night out and make the darkness stay longer I'll bite you and make your blood run thicker Yes See me still hiding a diffidence under this bold confidence But I'm not about pretense bird and bat, all the same I feel so very tense as it seems either I can tame Though I don't need defense and as you will see, I got no shame
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Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 1:32 PM UTC
Crimson liquor induced thoughts
Banners torn A single horn Blown to start the war Peace has fell Damning us to hell Men shaken to there core Women and children aren't safe As the men question thier faith In a god willing to allow all the death The body's burn with the land Lives brought down by hand Witness kin draw their final breath But soon it will stop as all these things do Finally brightness will be returned to the hue Because men, they forget that these things they have happened before And we can never have enough, our bloodlust seeks more
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Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 11:13 PM UTC
Conflict
The pale sickly boy bursts through the thick foliage of the woods His heart racing, face-blazing, eyes bulging out of their sockets And then it begins… The moon, the boy thinks slowing, It … It exudes Magnificence in the palest of lights, every crater like ancient golden pockets With a cry of anguish, he is no longer man Body splitting, tearing at the line between two realities Soft pink flesh turning into coarse fur Teeth turning into razor-sharp fangs The creature lies there panting; there is no need for formalities The boy now knows the creature well, but his colliding memories become a blur The wolf a feral rag doll as its beastly head hangs Hunger drips down its murderous maw and the wolf feels nothing Humanity has been ripped from his every vein Bloodlust is all that fills the hole The beast runs up a knoll covered in soft spring grass, ferocity still plenty The red ferrous liquid invites the creature down making it grueling to keep sane Instinct says it must pilfer souls, commit a theft, and break what was once whole Treading menacingly through the village, a wild demon Innocent people seal themselves into useless wooden homes, ready to repent Their fear all-encompassing, like a lamb before the slaughter The wolf’s ears ***** with the soft thud of its paws, feeling the earth underneath weaken A yearning, the creature drools at the thick scent A thing of nightmares left alone with a poor man’s daughter The inner war within the beast gains a new thunderous beat The boom ripping at the soul The boy had always felt that his human life was his reality But nothing had ever felt more real than his nights as a beast No longer able to tell the difference, he sinks into that endless black hole Pondering darkly upon his morality Disgusted by his own attempt at brutality The boy turns away from his panic-stricken prey, frozen in place, praying to blackout He has to make a decision, to do what must be done The next full moon, during his transformation, he experiences a sense of finality They feel a change, a shift in power, no longer any doubt The boy and the creature lay down their spears, let go of any fears as the forest goes silent with the sound of the shotgun
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 9:04 PM UTC
Trepidum Pecus (The Frightened Beast)
The pale sickly boy bursts through the thick foliage of the woods His heart racing, face-blazing, eyes bulging out of their sockets And then it begins… The moon, the boy thinks slowing, It … It exudes Magnificence in the palest of lights, every crater like ancient golden pockets With a cry of anguish, he is no longer man Body splitting, tearing at the line between two realities Soft pink flesh turning into coarse fur Teeth turning into razor-sharp fangs The creature lies there panting; there is no need for formalities The boy now knows the creature well, but his colliding memories become a blur The wolf a feral rag doll as its beastly head hangs Hunger drips down its murderous maw and the wolf feels nothing Humanity has been ripped from his every vein Bloodlust is all that fills the hole The beast runs up a knoll covered in soft spring grass, ferocity still plenty The red ferrous liquid invites the creature down making it grueling to keep sane Instinct says it must pilfer souls, commit a theft, and break what was once whole Treading menacingly through the village, a wild demon Innocent people seal themselves into useless wooden homes, ready to repent Their fear all-encompassing, like a lamb before the slaughter The wolf’s ears ***** with the soft thud of its paws, feeling the earth underneath weaken A yearning, the creature drools at the thick scent A thing of nightmares left alone with a poor man’s daughter The inner war within the beast gains a new thunderous beat The boom ripping at the soul The boy had always felt that his human life was his reality But nothing had ever felt more real than his nights as a beast No longer able to tell the difference, he sinks into that endless black hole Pondering darkly upon his morality Disgusted by his own attempt at brutality The boy turns away from his panic-stricken prey, frozen in place, praying to blackout He has to make a decision, to do what must be done The next full moon, during his transformation, he experiences a sense of finality They feel a change, a shift in power, no longer any doubt The boy and the creature lay down their spears, let go of any fears as the forest goes silent with the sound of the shotgun
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36
The curse of eternal life Would be, watching Every one you love, die ...and she felt like Her bones were buried In her body Unapologetically Apathetic She had eaten eons, Watched the ends Of millions of clocks’ lifetimes Snorted the rust of their Idle hands, dead still In the blank stare Of their concentric silence She wanted to cease This void existence, For boredom was Her ultimate torture
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Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 4:08 AM UTC
The Vamp
Go on, press record Lift your phone to bloodshed Lift your phone to the sound of hatred Of bloodlust laid on a foundation That was never really stable to begin with Go on, film those frames As you watch me beat the **** out of All those who made me feel like **** Worthless Hated Unloved Alone The final gunslinger, taking his stand Draws his pistols, hipfiring And in his stance, thumb through belt loop Hat down over his eyes Ashamed of his instant reaction, His ability to **** and inability to remain emotionless Go on, press record Put it on Facebook Let everyone know what you really are: A cowardly bystander
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Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 12:34 AM UTC
Record
Could you raise your voice Above the sounds of war Of bloodshed, of hatred And with your words shake the world? Could you believe someone Who says what you cannot do? They don't know you, only you know you So do whatever the f_ck you wanna do Some may say poetry is a dying art A pointless waste of time But they don't know what we know Emotions riddling this art of rhyme And that's mostly what this is about The expression of ones' mind So leave those wars and hatred Raise your voice in tales of those left behind
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Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 10:13 PM UTC
Riddle of Rhyme
(n. a state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence) Maybe it's the thrill of adventure that lures you- The thought of getting caught red-handed, The feeling of flesh parting and revealing, The spray of fresh warm blood on your skin. Maybe it's a thirst that spur you forward- The need for the adrenaline rushes, The desire for vengeance or payback, The want to fulfill your deep blood lust. And so it happens, swing after swing after swing- Ruptured veins and crimson staining your vision and soul- As hateful and warm as the hell you know you'll burn in- Come what may, you think, as you fall and the kuebiko settles in.
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC
Kuebiko
I taste blood You are my demon You are my angel I taste your blood I taste my blood Partake and join Please and enjoy I taste our blood I taste their blood Sinning succulent Surprising sweetness I taste blood And it is good to me
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Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC
Vampire
When the moon comes full circle The change rips through me like a power circuit It starts in my toes Far away from my heel they grow My knees now bend backward My bones all feel fractured Still on two feet I stand As I go out and survey my land There is a hunger inside me that stirs And my blood lust all will incur As I run swiftly through the woods To meet my pack, my hood I am the alpha female the leader of this brood In the bright moonlight we go in pursue of food We stalk the campers in their tents They never had a single hint Inside their canvas shell the blood did spray They had become our prey We shredded the skin to make it tender So savoury sweet as I remember With blood dripping off our jowls We soon go back on the prowl I am the alpha female I am the leader of my pack If you see us coming, you better not look back Better yet when the moon is full and bright Don't go wondering in the woods at night
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Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
Alpha Female (Werewolve)
Standing in crimson flowers, hands soaked in hatred, what it seems like hours, the anger has not faded. Smell of bad cologne in the air. Blood lust unable to bare. No more moments to spare. To find their addicting lair. Running with speed and friction, burning flowers quickly bloom, bodies start piling in their tomb, a sole ticket to destruction. The heat of burning organs. The music of screaming fortunes. Ash hands and their contortions. Faces sculpted in distortions. There are bones in this zen garden. Remainders of a hasty bargain, for revenge, a heart, hardened. and redemption it's last warden. Speed created friction in my veins. Happiness burned amidst the flames. Now free from hate's chains. Loneliness is what remains.
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 6:17 AM UTC
Scarlet Celerity
Love War craving gore I see no red turning once beloved hope, companionship, cast warm loyalty, upon against strangers false hatred created by my well stolen bravery gloved hand filling the hungry void of cowardice who cares right? forget why fight it all boredom surely blood lust All Just for a dollar's sake
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 4:09 AM UTC
All Just
with guns and knives stowed in our suits we may be called as sons of brutes but even in this place of fright we find our state of pure delight delight me with your cunning smile which makes false countries reconcile firm grip and all that attitude young girls will hope that you'd include include them in your precious mind and never leave them far behind it must have been your glorious hair that makes them stop and love and stare stare at your retreating back with me as selfish and intact in truth, when all is said and done you only have to raise your gun
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Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 10:28 AM UTC
guns
We've got a red white and blue bloodlust For the drips from the slits in the wrist Of Ms. Statue of Liberty Miss America Covered in capitalist pigs blood camouflaged as corn syrup whispering bitter somethings to the diabetic nation that broke her sweet-heart They'll give her something to fill her wounds And add insult to Self-inflicted injuries in flashes of light our arrogance under-shadows our destiny She’ll overcome us in her apotheosis   She’ll come back around harder next time When she finally comes for us
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Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
In Her Apotheosis
A house that dont have love just pain and sorrow and a kid praying for a better tomorow. a father fighting with my mother about anything to everything a life of hurt a life of lies a life of a place that never ends like an endless race. Kids crying of seeing her mother dieing and a father that never truly was. In my mind all i think is a gun with a bullet splating my brains and just maybe he can feel my pain. Looking at my blood and finally truly know whats he done just maybe he will understand.my pain and the devil will be laughing from his bloodlust because i just took a soul my own
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
Dad