Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#sinister
I feel it in the quiet, it sounds nothing alike. It follows me in the day, and surrounds me at night. It’s everywhere and nowhere. Just out of sight. It lingers in the corners, testing my might. It tempts and it taunts me, unseen in plain light. It dances on edges, too tall I seek flight. It grins in the silence, stealing all my light. It whispers in corners, it waits through it all, A shadow that lingers, a thief in the night.
0
Apr 3
Apr 3, 2026 at 10:03 AM UTC
A Thief in the Night.
desperation grips the mind, hell-bent on treason; the devil grins, proud.
0
Feb 1, 2025
Feb 1, 2025 at 12:30 AM UTC
the devil's grin
There’s something so sinister about being lost inside of yourself;- I apply Lip Ice before I fall asleep, just in case I have to experience That cold kiss with Death. But that’s one being, being less than generous to oneself, and giving out a lot of degenerate excuses Of not doing so well. Rambling picaresque; engulfed by a hardened sense; feeding well into my own insecurities, made from haphazard ingredients- as a soul that tastes like concluded gumbo Still, I ate a full plate; possessing a ruthless taste; an illegitimate descendant of experience- that ******* is tapping, watered down By the chit and chatter of rain; a totem of pain, spoken in haste, As my lips are a cigarette ember, kissing while heat reveals itself, As a tiny echoed spark, in a pool full of fresh gasoline I only hear the sound of peace, in a snoring dream, _ha,_ I hardly do try to breathe out of my nose. From not being altogether; are we Really all together- who really knows? But only the dead, who truly Get to see the entire world, as souls that rise, or of course those who fall As its truly so sinister living as beings, in this world’s being.
0
Jul 11, 2024
Jul 11, 2024 at 9:51 AM UTC
Sinister
Desire. Killing softer souls Then meets the eye. Screaming, Drowning. Running, Empowering, I am all but there. My mind flares With ideas That the heavens wouldn't dare To declare. For life, I do not bear. Numb to a feeling, Born too daring. Unwilling to sober, Utterly uncaring. That is I, And I shall be until the end of time. Where I sit against a wall, Dimmer than my mind.
0
Jan 2, 2024
Jan 2, 2024 at 11:53 AM UTC
A Crude Confession
One step - two stepping me, Swirling around me in a spiral, And I twirl, And orbit in a cycle, Gaining momentum, I shine bright As I try to catch up to your speed And you run me down! When did you become so sinister? Never fixed in a fixture, So I never got the whole picture, Because you're constantly on the move. So move! Don't hold your breath In fear that you'll never breathe again When the difference between Reality and a projection Is the ink in the pen and The lines in a book And even then, You cannot catch up to the speed of His Handwriting. Finished before you even started, Cycle after cycle I am reminded.
0
Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 6:02 AM UTC
Dance of a Lifetime
Sadistic, sinister:               The evil twin sister I fight, I resist,               But sometimes I still miss her... From birth was a friction –               Affliction – a blister Now alive, I must die               Every day and dismiss her .
0
Nov 10, 2020
Nov 10, 2020 at 9:15 AM UTC
Sadistic Sister
Locked away, in tower grey, The crime of innocence; And in the streets, disarray, Observed from the distance Of a somber penance: A sinister interplay.
0
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 3:35 AM UTC
The Prisoner
Welcome to my phantom realm Where smiling is a deadly fallacy Please don't take a careless step Because they'll **** you callously Welcome to my phantom realm Where the autumn leaves are always dying A twisted peace: the result of your mind's helm You'll find within, mystifying Welcome to my phantom realm Where power lies in the secrets you keep So dark, so deep, that you start drowning Just never let them sense your pain Don't be scared of my phantom realm The darkness will embrace you for who you are And don't listen to them say they want to end your pain Remember a favour is not them killing you Welcome to my phantom fantasy Together we'll build a kingdom for me And when you feel yourself losing hope I'll give you Pandora's Jar; you don't have to mope
0
Feb 2, 2020
Feb 2, 2020 at 7:14 AM UTC
My Phantom Realm
Pickpocketed each pocket has a purpose church bells shatter through the surface the worthless circus sunday service a procession past the pickled mirthless dispersions of persons pass pews hoping He accepts the time served, in lieu and thus this pocket is purposed for you At the masqurade parade all day That preys on insecurity youre sure to see a bargain, sharking, armed with curiosity but the cost is often hidden, lost in a forest of desire, in a silk lined pocket and this is where they keep your wallet search for solace in a sound structure then ruptured synapses, flayed fluster rebuild it all, regard life's lustre meander melancholy with what you can muster place them in a pocket, each respective, one for your lessons and one for perspective as the pickpocket of fear plays with the reasoning detective
0
Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 8:28 AM UTC
Pickpocketed
Hark, while the wasteland breathes out silent whims, And see, as night's aura cloaks distant trees; A sinister echo of ancient hymns, Floats up, in a creeping midsummer breeze. As the miles sum up - an anxious bearing, Rushes a vague fright up the fragile spine; But with the city lights on watch, nearing, This unsettling fear slides down the incline. The unattended anxiety does go, Which this travel in the dark did arise; City lights torch a new fret although, But far less weary, it, in question, lies. Wearisome measures of the restless nights, Merit resistance by the city lights.
0
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 4:34 PM UTC
A Sonnet to the City Lights
Invisible money knows your dream, An untamed pet with secrets Carrier of midnight visions Aboard the bittersweet rain train Free the child with crackling city skin Calling water ‘gift’, Plan death with silver hands For designated sleep it lives
0
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 8:53 PM UTC
Silver Hands
I am no child of God Something sinister designed me With a heart that hurts too deeply Sword tongue that cuts too sharply Skin that bruises easy Eyes that don’t see clearly Some narcissism, optimism Pinch of pessimism For good measure Pathetic Brain cell battlefield Truth fronts on both ends Devil’s distorted spectrum I falter in the middle An impossible distance Clouded by cognizance And carelessness There is only now And now, I am Everything and nothing Unbalanced, unfallen The void in silence Sudden vacuum of air White light in sheer darkness Vicious cause for despair Sweet surrender is calling But I don’t belong there
0
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 4:43 PM UTC
Forgive Me, Father
It was a bleak and dismal Sunday morning, as I baked for the sake of baking. My head was bowed as I sliced apples when suddenly, everything within me started aching. I decided to take a brief recess and rest in my reclining chair. As I gazed out through my windowpane, I observed that rain was there. It dripped and dropped onto the dense grass, and such a beautiful sight it was. As I continued to gaze, I noticed a faint, human-like figure in the shadows of the trees. At that moment, reason had abruptly gone, and curiosity had jurisdiction. I found myself leaving the comfort of my chair, walking into the grove. When the rain caressed my wrinkled skin, I then began to roam. I could hear vague, ghost-like murmurs surrounding me; the predicament that I was in then began confounding me. As time progressed, my visual perception dimed, and as it dimmed, the murmurs became more prominent. I listened to the murmurs repeatedly asserting "your end is right in front of thee." I didn't understand nor had a clue. My fearfulness only grew. And then out of the blue, I collided with what I assumed was a tree, until I heard a rather stout, raspy, sinister-natured "hello." And instantaneously I registered what the murmurs had revealed to me. My end was unquestionably in front of me.
0
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 4:33 PM UTC
The Elderly Woman
Let the sinister thoughts come Allow the mischevious demons to hoarse When they think you're numb and defeated Show them you're the Dark Horse
0
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 12:45 PM UTC
Dark Horse
Her mascara stain imprinted on your collar Smudged for the burgundy strawberry You begged for me to plant on your neck She knew. She found out. Your shirt smelled like The sweet abyss of my body at night I warned you from the start. On you lap,whispering, hot breaths and tongue darting, telling you I was a famed minx in fishnets and a tight velvet dress, dripping red But you held onto me like your very life Depended on the carnal lust that almost swallowed you alive I notorious, you famous. These two never ever make a good pair. But I caught your eye. Long nights, your poured out your heart And felt in me the echo, that was lost from her from the very start. It echoed your soul. You, truly you. You felt it. I reciprocated every inch of just who you are So I let you inside me, and ravish the little attraction a broken soul had left. Once. Twice. A thousand times over. Panic burnt. Your eyes red with pain of the chaos and doors she slammed in your face. She left. You lost her. "The love of your life" Who never knew what you are as a man But you are here, back for comfort A lie you tell yourself to be mine.
0
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 9:59 AM UTC
Adultery
masked, he came towards me weapon in hand, hands bloodthirsty. the white of his mask showed no purity, only a sinister mystery. most would run, or scream even but i could not; legs tied with fear tongue tied into a knot, i remained silent as the assailant drew near. close enough to feel his breath warm upon my cheek he whispered: ‘my name is Hope. this is what i look like.’ i could feel his blade cold, pressed against my thigh yet he entwined his leather gloved fingers with mine. swaying gently, bathed in an unknown, gentle light. but the light grew harsher; i notice it reflecting off my heart. the silver blade, burrowed into my chest. my knees buckle and the floor is ice. warmth drains from me and hope crouches down - removes his mask. faceless and empty, empty with unknowing. from nowhere, Hope’s voice echoed everywhere. he said: ‘my name is Hope and hope never dies.’
0
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 12:23 PM UTC
Hope.