#thriller
Fishing at the edge of this abyss
murky waters swallow my feet
always wondering,
wondering always
what lurks underneath?
Setting a beautiful net
shiny fabric swallowed by haze
always fooled
fooled always
what will I trap?
Fishing at the verge of this abyss
mucky waters stain my skin
always hoping
hoping always
it will be worth it.
Fisher, you should have known
only foul critters crave beauty.
Fisher, you should have known
only atrocious jaws devour love.
Setting a beautiful net
worn out golden fabric
always loving
loving always
the teeth sinking in my hands.
Setting a tender net
sewn back with hair
always knowing
knowing always
who would adore you
if it is not me?
[Another recurrence of the Devotion Rot habit—spilled as art.
Writings about a consuming love we would love to hate.]
Jul 16, 2025
Jul 16, 2025 at 6:45 PM UTC
She wakes up at 3:17 every morning.
The hallway lights flicker on, the cockroaches crawl back to their spots.
Floors creak, glass shatters, and the scares are unleashed when she starts to trot.
In the distance, she listens for something there, or maybe not.
Creating a flickering mess, she’ll leave everything to rot
Continuing to explore, she stumbles on a heater, noting it's red-hot.
Why? She doesn’t know. How? She doesn’t know. Where? She doesn’t know.
Beneath the floors, a creeping plot.
There is a dragging sound, perhaps a rusted knot.
Dangerous beings hiding below, their faces all distraught.
She breathes heavily and groans as the shadows take her spot.
Something takes her, screams, fighting a battle she already fought.
Why? She doesn’t know. How? She doesn’t know. Where? She doesn’t know.
Maybe it was the medicines, the traumas, or the sudden drop
From the roof down to the floors, no way she could have been caught.
If only it were the help that she sought.
She searched for a meaning, but always forgot.
A lifetime in silence and twisted thought, it looks like time has stopped.
No joy, no light, and certainly no second shot.
It was she who gave herself to that final spot.
Why? She didn’t know. How? She didn’t know. Where? She didn’t know.
She woke up at 3:17 every morning.
Apr 28, 2025
Apr 28, 2025 at 8:17 PM UTC
You need not see the bride’s snow-white gown twice,
conquering every single piece of the endless blood-red carpet,
including all gazes,
even the lurking ones,
made from pure evil within.
Cherishment here and there,
as time gets ****** in,
sinister bolts strike through dense crowds,
witnessing a soon falling angel.
A chilling scream echoes,
hinting at the ever-watchful walls,
muffled whispering mockingly in a hush,
blending red and white altogether,
pink blood webs rooting beneath her feet,
shadow falling across the black velvet.
Apr 28, 2025
Apr 28, 2025 at 8:47 AM UTC
As shadows take the stage, patterns merge into design.
Not shapes nor in lines, more like visions in the mind.
Through this foreseeing lens, light dances with the dark.
My Conscience, transmogrified. Truth is leaving its mark.
Actors step with intent, and I see the revelation.
Their motions send spears into my imagination.
The audience watches in awe. They're spellbound.
As the story unfolds, I conclude without sound.
On stage, Something hides what I somehow can know.
Like a whisper in my ear, secrets are already told.
There's a clairevoyant truth behind the gaze of my eye.
The creator himself is showing me all that hides.
The stage becomes dim, the actors in place.
A dark, twisted tale. An ending I can taste.
Curtains fall as I reflect, to the cue of a song.
I see all the outcomes, Why can’t I be wrong?
Apr 3, 2025
Apr 3, 2025 at 2:08 PM UTC
You can run
but you
can't
hide
I
see
everything
I am the shadow
blurring in the dark
I am the eyes
keeping vigil through your window
I am the striking gaze
causing you to glance around
paranoid
Foolish lovely
you left your door
unlocked
knife glint
floorboards creak
door squeaks softly
feet padding on carpet
your silhouette
asleep
in
bed
Wolf smile
mouth watering
teeth glistening
eyes sparkling
You awake when you feel
cold
steel
on your throat
Your eyes widen
flinching
mouth opens
scream
piercing
panicked
desperate
beautiful
"there's no one here to save you now, darling."
your terror and pain is
palpable
flooding my soul with utter
satisfaction
as you squirm under your
restraints
my knife traces your skin in pleasing patterns
leaving crimson fire in its wake
drip
drip
drip
eternity passes
time in a blink
the life drains from your body
and your eyes
exhale
a swift wipe of the knife on the stained carpet
one last predator smile
another hunt
another masterpiece
finally, again, I feel
good
tiptoe
out the door
gloves buried swiftly
back in bed
again
dreaming
of you
of that first
blissful
cut
Mar 4, 2025
Mar 4, 2025 at 10:07 PM UTC
I saw him there, beneath the eaves
Standing with the dark
And although he made no move, nor sound
His presence there was stark
He was much like a wilting pane
His body cloaked in guile
I saw the turning of his face
The weeping in his smile
Entrenched there ‘low the jutting eaves
Ebbing with the wane
He then began towards the door
Jigging as he came
More a seize than jig, I’d say
Though it barely sought a word
A shuddering, a stuttering
But not a sound I heard
That fluxing smile stayed his face
As when he reached the door
And pondered for one awful breath
To motion with his claw
Gone inside and left my sight
I felt I too must go
If just to prove this vision false
To my senses dulled and slow
Inside I heard a shattering,
A shuddering, a blow
A muttering, a jittering
A shriek, but soft and low
I passed the door and by the hearth
Its embers bright and warm
And heard a sound pass in the ground
Like iron bees in swarm
Standing in the living room
He shuddered to and fro
As if the lights were flickering
And I too rapt to know
Upon the floor around the room
The bodies of some few
I shuddered as I took them in
He shuddered with me too
Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 4:25 PM UTC
I could feel the cool damp air from outside
A gentle weight on the skin, a particular smell
The smell of a night stretched on too long
I tiptoed across the carpeted floor boards
The house was old and I knew it well
Every little area it would groan and creek
I was moving slowly but urged myself faster
This wasn't like other nights, half asleep
Wandering to the bathroom at the end of the hall
No, the house is empty, or should I dare say was
I felt a presence so strong, yet undefinable
As if something was nearly upon me, only breaths away
I avoided deftly the creaky areas of the floor beneath
I felt the give of the wood beneath me as I reached the stairs
This would prove far more difficult to be silent for
Standing at the top I contemplated running down
As fast as my legs could possibly carry me
Somehow though I knew it wasn't the right choice
As I made my first step down there was silence
I breathed in a sharp silent breath of composure
Continuing to the second step, I winced as I heard a creek
But I stopped and lightly tested the step again
The sound hadn't been caused by me
Quickly my vision darted upwards towards my room
At the far end of the hallway where I had just left
I saw something, a blur like a thick vapor
The shadow black wall behind obscured it
I had no time to peer into the darkness
I sped up, step by step by step
31 steps in total all without a sound
Save for the floor I landed on in my haste
The old house groaned beneath my weight
My neck chilled as I gave in and ran
to be continued...
Nov 5, 2023
Nov 5, 2023 at 9:28 AM UTC
Like a bond song, rising from the depths
catching the theme, casting its charm,
holding the frame, teasing us
giving us just enough of what we’re waiting for
and keeping us all in the moment,
gun shot by shot, brass blast by blast,
until the action breaks across the screen,
drawing every gasp, taking every heart,
holding every gaze, clutching every throat,
- until the strings break in
and bring release and joy and disbelief
as the hero survives yet again
to bring the world its peace
Feb 11, 2023
Feb 11, 2023 at 2:06 PM UTC
I'm tired of being someone.
Instead, I want to be something.
I want to be the creak in your floorboards at night; the time it takes for you to convince yourself it's just the house settling. Nothing is wrong.
I want to be the dogs barking in the lot across the street. What are they barking at? I cant see anything.
I want to be the howls outside your window, knocking to come inside. It's just the wind, just a tree branch, no one is awake this time of night.
Did you remember to lock the door?
Jan 25, 2022
Jan 25, 2022 at 2:12 AM UTC
You looked at me
And said
If I closed my eyes
I’d be willing to die for you
The air outside was so cold
And I was In need of someone’s attention
So, violently
I cling to you
For some kind of September’s worth
For someone close to home
Who I would have no future with
I was tired
Of staying in my room day after day
I was tired of being alone
I wasn’t going to let my one life slip away
So I looked down
And I decided the ground wasn’t that scary
And if I just gave my self
A little longer
Everything would be so much better
At this point in time
I felt powerful
At this point in time
I was hopeful I’d survive
And then I
closed
my eyes
In trauma class
They tell you
A victim
Will blame themselves first
Will internalize a space of fear
Of their own creation
You ever notice that?
She says
A glance across the room
What
I whisper back
And then she says
Warm breath against
your lips-
Creation
Is only for God
And
children.
Nov 1, 2021
Nov 1, 2021 at 2:14 AM UTC
It was an exceedingly hot and sultry summer day in the bylanes of Kabul. Lt.Sameer Sharma had missed the chance of catching the prodigal engineer turned terrorist Abdul at the marketplace.But now he had an ace in his deck,the enigmatic Dr.Rizwan, a doctor by day and spy by night.
Here they were near a warehouse at a nondescript military base.Any second now,a glimpse of the adversary could be caught.
"Over there",shouted Rizwan,pointing his gun towards the massive box.As deftly as a cat ,Sameer slowly moved towards the box.It was a cat.
Another voice was heard in the floor above.It was Abdul.
He ran.
They ran.
It could all have been over in a minute.Years of espionage and intelligence work boiled downed to one chase.
They chased. A chance . The only chance.Four shots were fired.
They saw the corpse.They were jubilant."Finally" cried......
"Finally",cried Musa as he shared a smoke with Rizwan.
There laid the body of Lt.Sameer in a pool of blood.
Betrayal had never been more stylish.
The End.
Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 11:56 AM UTC
Black
Is all I see
Nothing
Is what I'll be
Highs
Money
Lows
Is she?
I am nothing
Invisible
Invincible
I love the sound of loneliness
Don't bring me gifts
I am not a Holmes
They're not my home
Every steps come
As i do
Uninvited
I am not blind
I can see
What's this dividends?
What am I?
The number below one
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 1:12 PM UTC
It's gnawing at his bones,
and clawing at his spine,
he knows he's not alone,
but now is not the time.
The woman behind sings,
broken voice brings life like spring,
enlivening his actions,
but stressing her malefaction.
He'd been running for years,
or at least, that's how it felt.
Despite his eyes' red tears,
and skin starting to welt,
his drive had never reared,
but soon, to enervation, he knelt.
He fell into the leaves,
pain stung like blades unsheathed,
now too faint to run,
he peered up to the sun.
Then, the blue turned black,
he heard a familiar chime,
he knew, his lover was back.
She heaved her axe one time...
He still lies in the leaves,
no more cries or screams,
he speaks only silence now,
in a place that won't be found.
Oct 3, 2020
Oct 3, 2020 at 11:05 PM UTC
You came in my life as a stranger
Curly, hair, dimple on cheeks,
Smoky eyes for attracting me
With your story which had some
Pain to speak.
Everything was in your favour
You nailed in my heart by saving my life
From danger as a braver
Hanging out with you was my pleasure
You was the one who came in my life
With fun like a treasure.
Your gift for me was so sweet
The novel you gave twist my life
"You was sleeping since 10 years"
The words of dora make me surprise
I ran to find your memorize.
You was standing in front of me
But the tone of your voice was strange
You are not the one whom i love,
Your appearance was change .
"I killed you in the novel , you are my character Miss lovell, you are not alive "
The words of that stranger makes my heartbeat shrive.
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 4:17 AM UTC
My fingers grace the keys......
left, right, left.....right....
Which one was it, again?
left, right, left.....right....
I just want to go in
left, right, left.....right....
left, right, left.....right....
the door now ajar, air thin
the door way casts its grim shadow on the floor,
And just like that, one becomes two
my shadow torn
away he goes
to sleep, once more
Left, right; his feet go on
left, right, left.....right....
Aug 13, 2020
Aug 13, 2020 at 5:01 AM UTC
O traveller, when will you return to the origin of your being?
Reality is what you are and a reverie is what you have been.
Your similitude is to the moon with its varying phases,
ever luminous but with lasting traces.
It is the origin from where you started and it is where you will ever arrive,
though it is a thing mysterious but you have never failed to strive.
So I ask O traveller, have you earned for what you strived?
Be content O stranger, for to the origin I have arrived.
Aug 10, 2020
Aug 10, 2020 at 7:40 AM UTC
The matchstick is kindled and I dwindle at the thought of meeting my end,
as nothing is permanent and has to be sent.
Nothing was yours as it was lent.
Life is nothing but an enjoyment of delusion
seldom have you heard this been told,
so intensely think and do not be so bold
to amuse everything that is being told.
You do not see but it is a heavy load,
so be more kind than you are cold.
For everything has to wither and grow old,
surely seldom have you heard this been told
Aug 10, 2020
Aug 10, 2020 at 7:39 AM UTC
-Nightmare
Around 8 in the evening,
Johnson had woken up screaming,
Because he underwent a nightmare.
His soul was in deep distress,
So he attempted to suppress,
What had just given him quite a scare.
What on earth did Johnson see?
Haters of Christianity,
Burning in hellfire and in despair.
Jul 6, 2020
Jul 6, 2020 at 11:15 PM UTC
Tick and tick
as the clock lingers
I stare at the candle,
the candle that incinerates
to bestow me with light,
the light that I gave up on,
at the first breaths of this night.
The granite
beneath my feet
sidles and erodes
with every passing second.
and I peer at the ceiling
yearning for somebody
to provide
one helping hand.
Never have I
longed for sleep
as of this night,
for its been months
I crave for it's sight.
But then I see him,
right before my eyes
as if he were the only moon
of a million skies.
Like a blooming lily
in a puddle of abyss,
He sleeps right before me
wrapped by a quilt of peace.
I so envy him
with every bit of my might,
for I lack what he holds
despite how hard I fight.
And to perplex me
and to add to my fears,
a voice inside me groans
while yelling
"How can you sleep,
when you haven't woken up
in years?"
Now he stands
the only one
who knows how to sleep,
so I keep asking him
but to add to my miseries,
corpses do not speak.
So I keep staring at him,
while this one question
gulps me down as a whole,
"Why does a body sometimes die
leaving behind it's soul?"
-thewordplayer
Jun 6, 2020
Jun 6, 2020 at 4:17 PM UTC