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#hazbinhotel
In the circus of the hollowed ground Where neon blood and sins abound The King of Hell in a top-hat crown Wears a smile to keep the darkness down Once a dreamer with stars in his eyes Who dared to question the static skies He traded the light for a world of lies And watched his visions vaporize Now he tinkers in a lonely hall With rubber ducks against the wall A golden fiddle, a shadow tall Still reeling from the ancient fall He sees the world through a cynical lens Of broken deals and violent ends Until the Princess,his heart’s defense Asks for a path where hope begins With a cane that sparks and a coat of red He battles the doubts inside his head To protect the girl and the words she said Bringing life to a city of the dead The Morning Star, now a rebel king With six black wings and a song to sing Finding that love is the only thing That can make a fallen spirit wing
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Jan 20
Jan 20, 2026 at 7:01 PM UTC
The Morning Stars Encore
A crackle in the hallway, a soft and rhythmic hum He watches from the balcony as the morning shadows come There she stands in sunlight, with her hand in Vaggie’s grip A secret sigh of longing starts to tremble on his lip He adjusts his crimson bowtie, his grin a jagged line Accepting that her radiance was never meant to shine On him in quiet corners or in dreams of something more Yet he finds a strange contentment through the cracking of the door For her laugh is like a broadcast, clear and soaring high A melody that colors all the grayness of his sky If her heart is full of fire, if her soul is free of fear Then the static in his spirit finds a reason to be clear It’s a bittersweet performance, a solo in the dark To love the glowing ember while another fans the spark He’ll be her loyal shadow, the demon in the wings Finding joy within the music that her happy spirit sings A gentleman’s devotion, wrapped in velvet and in pride With a world of hidden sorrow tucked away deep down inside He tips his hat in silence to the love he cannot share Happy just to breathe the same redeemed and holy air
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Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 11:00 AM UTC
A Gentleman's BitterSweet Joy (A sequel to The Deers Silent Frequency)
The dream is dead, you killed it You descended from the stars just to butcher and to hit I offered you redemption, a path to make amends You answered with your spears and slaughtered all my friends You took away my family, you took away my life You pushed me to the edge, now prepare for the night Well, I am not gonna be that sweet girl anymore Consider this a declaration of holy war I've woken up the demon that was sleeping at your door You wanted entertainment, you wanted holy grace I'll wipe that self-righteous smile right off your face When I pay you a visit, I won't be singing songs I'll be writing every word of your blood-soaked rose I buried all my tears, now there's only room for hate You forged this broken monster, so accept your fate I'll show you what it means to face the daughter of the Morningstar Cause I'm the ruin, I'm the end I am the nightmare for the message that you send I'm your demise, I am the plague I am the consequence formatted in their blood So cower in your clouds, lock your pearly gates tight Because the princess of hell is coming for the light Go say your goodbyes to your sky To your heaven
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Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 1:38 AM UTC
Redemption is Dead (this is my favorite song from KayJoung)
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
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Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 2:04 PM UTC
A Smile of Salt and Static (the sixth one 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
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Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 1:28 PM UTC
The Rhythm of a Hollow Chest (the fifth poem 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
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Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 1:26 PM UTC
Hope and Dread in the Rubble (the fourth poem in the series)
In the silence of the charcoal air, where Charlie stood alone A static hum began to stir beneath the shattered stone From the ruins of the lobby, where the shadows stretched and curled The Radio Demon stepped once more into a broken world His pinstriped coat was singed by fire, his monocle was cracked But the grin remained a jagged line, a smile he never lacked He did not offer comfort, nor a hand to dry her eyes He watched the Princess tremble as her darker power rose to rise "The stage is cleared of players, dear," his voice a grainy reed "But look at what has blossomed from that tiny, tragic seed The hotel was a playhouse, but the tragedy is grand Now show the heavens what it means to rule this hollow land." With a tilt of his cane and a crackle of red, he surveyed the scene with glee A new act dawning in this broken realm, for all of hell to see The Princess, fueled by fury, faced the grinning, ancient power Two forces poised to shape the coming, unpredictable hour
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Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 1:21 PM UTC
The Curtain Falls in Crimson (third poem in the series of the Ashes)
From dust she rose, a furious queen, her sorrow forged in flame No longer just a hopeful dreamer, but a force they couldn't tame Her eyes, once bright with innocence, now glowed with crimson might A determined will replaced the meek, embracing inner light The fallen friends became her shield, their memory her steel A purpose born of deep despair, for a new world she would feel No more the songs of happy endings, no more the gentle plea A powerful, untethered resolve, for all the world to see She walked the streets where ashes lay, where dreams were once so tall And swore a vow that every future would not, could not fall The forces that had brought her low would learn her name in gloom Her spirit's fire, uncontained, escaping from the tomb For every life they cruelly took, a different path she'd tread A different kind of happy ending, for the living and the dead Her heart, though broken now, beat with a primal roar A new beginning beckoned, she embraced the coming shore
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Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 1:16 PM UTC
The Princess of Wrath
In the ruins of a broken dream, where shadows start to creep The laughter fades to mournful screams, a promise hard to keep The ones she held so very dear, now lost in smoke and fray A crushing weight, a burning tear, they've taken them away No gentle hand to hold her tight, no wicked jest to hear Just emptiness in fading light, fueled by a rising fear The hope she built with loving care, shattered on the ground A silent, raw, and deep despair, where love was once profound But in the depths of sorrow's chill, a different fire gleams A power waiting to fulfill, fueled by her broken dreams The gentle light begins to dim, a fierceness takes its place No longer soft, no longer prim, a change upon her face With heavy heart and eyes ablaze, she rises from the dust Through sorrow's dark and winding maze, a new, determined ****** For those she lost, a path she'll tread, where darkness starts to bloom A legacy of fallen dead, escaping from the tomb
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Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 1:01 PM UTC
Ashes of the Hazbin Dream
For eons, she held the scales so true In a realm of light and endless blue High Seraph, with a crown of gold The weight of worlds in her steady hold "To protect the light," she’d softly say As she watched the shadows kept at bay But the secret she kept, like a festering wound Was a rhythm to which her heart was tuned The scream of the fallen, the ash of the dark To save a flame, she extinguished the spark "A necessary end," she told the sky As she whispered a prayer and lived a lie Then the light fractured, the silence broke In a flash of redemption, a truth awoke A sinner ascended, a snake with a smile And the lie she had lived for such a long while Tumbled like glass on the heavenly floor A truth she could hide from the stars no more How many millions? The math is a blade The price of the safety she thought she had made She stares at her hands, once so pure and so white Now stained by the ghosts of the long, ****** night The certainty shatters; the High Seraph falls Within the cold echo of Heaven’s high walls She is no longer the judge, no longer the guide With nowhere left for a monster to hide In the wreckage of order, in the shadow of grace She finally looks at her own broken face The halo is heavy, the truth is a fire Consuming the pride of the High Seraph's spire
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Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 5:14 PM UTC
Broken Halo
The silence stretches, thick with what was seen A jagged rift where trust had always been Charlie reaches out, her fingers trembling slight To touch the armor of her vanguard in the night "It wasn't planned," the Princess softly pleads Her heart a garden choked with tangled weeds But Vaggie only stares at where the light had flown A bitter taste of heaven she had once herself known She does not speak of envy or of broken vows But of the weight the golden crown allows "She is a spark," Vaggie whispers, sharp and low "And sparks bring fires that you cannot hope to stow" She steps into the circle of her lover’s space And wipes a stray, celestial tear from Charlie's face The kiss remains a ghost, a shimmering, soft sin As the protector draws the wandering princess in Outside the door, the hellfire starts to rise Masking the doubt within the soldier’s weary eyes They stand together, though the air has turned to glass Waiting for the echoes of the Seraph’s wings to pass
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Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 2:58 PM UTC
The Afterglow of Altars (the third poem continuing The Shadow of the Seraph)
The halo fades, but the tension stays behind As Charlie searches for the words she cannot find She touches her lips, a dazed and golden stare While the scent of ozone lingers in the air From the corner's gloom, a heavy footfall rings Not the flutter of a Seraph’s many wings Vaggie steps forward, her eye a piercing spark A jagged silhouette emerging from the dark "I saw her, Charlie," the fallen soldier sighs With a thousand questions burning in her eyes The protector’s spear is lowered, but her heart is tight Torn between her duty and the morning light Charlie stammers, reaching for a steady hand As two worlds shift beneath the hotel's sand Vaggie doesn't shout, she doesn't turn away She simply watches where the Seraph used to play A silent pact is forged within the dim-lit hall To catch the princess should the Seraph make her fall The secret grows, a shadow on the floor As Vaggie stands guard beside the heavy door
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Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 2:41 PM UTC
The Shadow of the Seraph (sequel to The Silent Sentinel's Sight)
In the halls where scarlet curtains sweep A secret vow the Seraph starts to keep Charlie stands, a dreamer lost in light Unaware of the star descending from the height With a rush of wings and a sudden, soft surprise Emily catches the wonder in the princess’s eyes A fleeting touch, a kiss like morning dew A spark of Heaven in a world of crimson hue But in the velvet shadows, tucked away A guardian watches the colors start to fray Vaggie stands frozen, a silent, silver blade Witness to a bond in the quiet darkness made No word is spoken, no secret is confessed As Emily leaves a tremor in Charlie’s chest The Seraph flies, the Princess tries to breathe While Vaggie watches from the corner, still and underneath
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Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 2:29 PM UTC
The Silent Sentinel's Sight
Beneath the glow of Heaven’s softest light A Seraph dreams within the quiet night Far from the court where ancient laws are spun She seeks the warmth of Hell’s own golden sun She sees the princess, dressed in crimson pride With weary hopes she no longer has to hide In this brief realm where status falls away The silver moon meets dawn’s first blushing ray A gentle hand finds Charlie’s velvet cheek A silent bond that words could never speak Two worlds collide in one soft, phantom grace A dream-spun touch in this celestial space For Emily, the halo starts to blur She wakes with feelings only meant for her A lingering sense of magic, wild and true Wishing the morning’s light was not so new
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Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 10:55 AM UTC
The Seraph's Secret Sun (sequel to A Secret in the Seraphims Light)
A blade of silver, sharp and cold A loyal terror, fierce and bold Behind the mask of LED light She is the purging gale of night No mercy shows in golden eyes Beneath the vast, unyielding skies She follows where the leader leads To fulfill important tasks and needs With halo bright and wings of steel She helps decide who stands or kneels The "Lieutenant" with a will of stone Who helps protect the heavenly throne To her, the world seems black and white The righteous path, the demon night A soldier born for a cause so grand She holds authority in command
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Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 10:36 AM UTC
The Steel Lieutenant
In the static-choked air of his neon tower A screen-faced god counts the minutes and hours He flickers in blue, a restless, bright ghost Obsessed with the shadow he hates the most He stitches his cables and sharpens his glare Searching for signals that aren't even there A crackle of vinyl, a laugh in the dark The Radio Demon has left a new mark While Alastor smiles with a mouth full of rot Vox is the prisoner of every missed shot He captures the silence, he records the breath A digital stalker enamored with death He craves the attention, the bite of the wit To be the one light that the deer won’t admit But the airwaves stay cold, archaic and grim And Vox is just static—waiting for him
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Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 9:39 AM UTC
The Feedback Loop
Amidst the bubbling beakers' glow Where neon fluids ebb and flow A finned inventor, cold and keen Tries to keep his workspace clean But through the steam and salty air A frantic blur comes rushing there With needle sharp and single eye To watch the chemical sparks fly He calculates with logic's hand The finest theories ever planned While she pursues a different goal To scrub the stains from every bowl He grumbles at the sudden mess His gills flared wide in deep distress But Niffty giggles, quick and sweet And sweeps the chaos from his feet A scientist of deep-sea gloom A maid who haunts every room They form a bond in glass and steel A strange attraction, sharp and real She likes the way his goggles shine He finds her madness quite divine For in his charts and complex gears She is the pulse that kills his fears Between the poison and the soap They find a tiny spark of hope A frantic heart, a brilliant mind Two jagged pieces, well-aligned He’ll build the world, she’ll keep it bright Through every manic, messy night The fish who dreams, the girl who sweeps A secret that the hotel keeps
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Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 1:21 AM UTC
Beakers and Broomsticks
In a blimp of brass and iron plate He plots his rise and seals his fate With top hat tall and eyes of gold A Victorian villain, fierce and bold A serpent’s coil, a tinkerer’s hand To conquer all this lawless land With Egg Boiz marching in a row Ready for the grandest show But beneath the hiss and the metal skin Lay a lonely heart beneath the sin A soul who stumbled, lost and wide With no one standing by his side He sought for power, sought for fame To make the demons fear his name Yet found his purpose, strange and new In a hotel crew of a mismatched hue From a clumsy foe to a loyal friend He found a path he could defend He traded his cannons and his pride For the warmth of those on the inside And when the heavens poured their light He stood his ground and joined the fight A noble sacrifice, a brave farewell For the finest gentleman in all of Hell But the story didn't end in dust In mercy’s light and heaven’s trust The serpent rose to a golden gate To prove that it is never too late With wings of white and a halo bright He shines within the holy light Sir Pentious, once a king of tin The first to rise above his sin
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Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 12:13 AM UTC
The General of Gears and Grief
A flash of pink in a world of red With combat boots and a reckless tread She rolls her eye at the rules of old In sequins, lace, and a spirit bold With a wicked grin and a fuse in hand She’s the loudest boom in this wasteland Turning the alleys to a neon blur Where chaos finds its home in her She paints the town in a smoke-filled haze A frantic rhythm in a violent maze Side by side with her spider friend Defying the world until the end No master's leash and no hollow plea She is the anthem of the wild and free A one-eyed riot, a punk-rock queen The sharpest edge that the pits have seen From the Turf War heights to the dusty street The world shudders beneath her feet She doesn’t look back at the bridges burned For every scar is a lesson learned A heart of fire and a mind of grit A fuse that’s short and a match that’s lit Cherri Bomb dances through the blast Building a future that’s meant to last
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Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 11:44 PM UTC
The Anarchy of the Underground
In swirling dust and hurried pace A little demon cleans the place With needle sharp and frantic eye She watches every bug go by One eye on grime, one eye on sin Where does the tidying begin A moth-like sprite in black and white Obsessed with making everything right She zips and dashes, quick and keen The busiest thing you’ve ever seen A manic energy, a hum Until the cleaning work is done A little scary, slightly odd A world built just by chance and sod She talks to corpses, laughs with glee A cleaner soul you’ll never see For in her mind, a simple want A tidy world to live and haunt She searches for a perfect man While disinfecting every pan A tiny chaos in the calm With all her very minor harm Niffty cleans without a halt
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Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 11:37 PM UTC
The Cyclone of the Hotel
A warrior cast from the silver height Left in the dust of a ruthless night With a stolen eye and a broken wing She learned the bite of a holy sting No longer a soldier in heaven’s keep With secrets buried and sorrows deep She traded her halo for iron and grit And a candle of hope that the Princess lit With a moth’s soft grace and a soldier's heart She plays her fierce and protective part A silver spear in a steady hand To guard the dream of a broken land Her love is the anchor, her will is the shield Refusing to falter, refusing to yield For the girl with the smile and the golden hair She’d face every demon and every snare The X on her eye is a mark of the past A shadow of judgment the heavens once cast But her soul isn't grey like the skin she wears It’s found in the burden of love that she bears No longer a puppet of light and of war She found what her spirit was searching for Not a righteous path or a golden gate But a heart to protect in a world of hate
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Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 11:07 PM UTC
The Spear of the Morningstar
A warrior cast from the silver height Left in the dust of a ruthless night With a stolen eye and a broken wing She learned the bite of a holy sting No longer a soldier in heaven’s keep With secrets buried and sorrows deep She traded her halo for iron and grit And a candle of hope that the Princess lit With a moth’s soft grace and a soldier's heart She plays her fierce and protective part A silver spear in a steady hand To guard the dream of a broken land Her love is the anchor, her will is the shield Refusing to falter, refusing to yield For the girl with the smile and the golden hair She’d face every demon and every snare The X on her eye is a mark of the past A shadow of judgment the heavens once cast But her soul isn't grey like the skin she wears It’s found in the burden of love that she bears No longer a puppet of light and of war She found what her spirit was searching for Not a righteous path or a golden gate But a heart to protect in a world of hate
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Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 11:07 PM UTC
Untitled
A warrior cast from the silver height Left in the dust of a ruthless night With a stolen eye and a broken wing She learned the bite of a holy sting No longer a soldier in heaven’s keep With secrets buried and sorrows deep She traded her halo for iron and grit And a candle of hope that the Princess lit With a moth’s soft grace and a soldier's heart She plays her fierce and protective part A silver spear in a steady hand To guard the dream of a broken land Her love is the anchor, her will is the shield Refusing to falter, refusing to yield For the girl with the smile and the golden hair She’d face every demon and every snare The X on her eye is a mark of the past A shadow of judgment the heavens once cast But her soul isn't grey like the skin she wears It’s found in the burden of love that she bears No longer a puppet of light and of war She found what her spirit was searching for Not a righteous path or a golden gate But a heart to protect in a world of hate
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Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 11:06 PM UTC
Untitled
A warrior cast from the silver height Left in the dust of a ruthless night With a stolen eye and a broken wing She learned the bite of a holy sting No longer a soldier in heaven’s keep With secrets buried and sorrows deep She traded her halo for iron and grit And a candle of hope that the Princess lit With a moth’s soft grace and a soldier's heart She plays her fierce and protective part A silver spear in a steady hand To guard the dream of a broken land Her love is the anchor, her will is the shield Refusing to falter, refusing to yield For the girl with the smile and the golden hair She’d face every demon and every snare The X on her eye is a mark of the past A shadow of judgment the heavens once cast But her soul isn't grey like the skin she wears It’s found in the burden of love that she bears No longer a puppet of light and of war She found what her spirit was searching for Not a righteous path or a golden gate But a heart to protect in a world of hate
0
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 11:06 PM UTC
Untitled
A warrior cast from the silver height Left in the dust of a ruthless night With a stolen eye and a broken wing She learned the bite of a holy sting No longer a soldier in heaven’s keep With secrets buried and sorrows deep She traded her halo for iron and grit And a candle of hope that the Princess lit With a moth’s soft grace and a soldier's heart She plays her fierce and protective part A silver spear in a steady hand To guard the dream of a broken land Her love is the anchor, her will is the shield Refusing to falter, refusing to yield For the girl with the smile and the golden hair She’d face every demon and every snare The X on her eye is a mark of the past A shadow of judgment the heavens once cast But her soul isn't grey like the skin she wears It’s found in the burden of love that she bears No longer a puppet of light and of war She found what her spirit was searching for Not a righteous path or a golden gate But a heart to protect in a world of hate
0
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 11:06 PM UTC
Untitled