Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Blood in my mouth
I touch the wetness on my lips
The taste…
The taste reminds me
‘All is not lost!’ it screams to me.
‘Remember me!’ it sings out.
Blood in my mouth
A clash of metal pulls me
My arms raised above me
‘All is not lost!’ I scream this time.
Blood in my mouth
Lost days flash again.
Blood in my mouth
The world goes red.

cc2010
Dark as the moonless night
Cold unlike the burning fire
Disgraceful heart, take heed


Bitter as a poisoned fruit
Filthy unlike the sacred cup
Hatred consumes the soul

Good friends turning into foes
Nations collapsing into two
Envy strikes madness

It’s never too late, my friend
Put this all into an end
Envy - a self pity

Pure as a white cloud
Free unlike a caged bird
A clear conscience

Your heart’s pleasure
(c) Maximilian Montes @ October 7, 2009
'A sorrow of another’s good- Aquinas.'
You are my brand of ******,
my taste of seduction.
Your scent drives me insane,
my kind of obsession.

You are my delicious wine,
my intoxication.
Never will be enough,
to satisfy my thirst.

My glorious addiction
that’s what you are.
You brought me to damnation,
took me that far.

You have my heart in your palm
but still… I must resist.
Love and commitment calls.
Its all for the best.

Slowly… the need to step back…
How my heart aches
to stay away, hold back
from you… My addiction.
(c) Maximilian Montes @ October 27, 2009
'Getting over a delightful vice.'
***
Hot, burning desires…
animal instinct.
A dying pain within,
insistent urges.
Her skin, a fiery touch…
his scent, intoxicating musk.
Two bodies engulfed by passion.
Sacred acts of people in love.
(c) Maximilian Montes @ October 26, 2009
'A flesh pleasure.'
A phantom in man’s dreams,
driving fear for the soul.
Silent hunter as it is,
It stalks preys in shadows.
Lurking in many spaces,
snatching the unsuspecting,
it chooses no special place.
Time is within its claws.
Merciful face of death,
it can be swift and just.
Or an ugly vendetta,
as pain devours the flesh.
An inevitable fate.
The living’s destiny.
When or where to strike?
Unknown to men.
One thing is certain…
In death’s glorious time,
or moments of gloom,
We die alone.
(c) Maximilian Montes @ November 11, 2009
'Ugly realities.'
Crashing sounds,
friends laughter.
We drown ourselves with *****.
Fooling around,
merry making.
Simply just to forget.
Beers gone dry,
friends lay drunk.
I sit alone, sober.
Thinking of her,
longing, searching.
My heart beats distantly.
Hopeless case,
vacant soul.
Something she stole.
(c) Montes1275 *2009
She came like a whisper in the night.
Her voice a tender caress.
How she troubled my senses.

My seductress…

She’s a vision of my wildest dreams,
with her face of an angel
and a body hot, as hell.

My seductress…

She haunts me in my sleepless hours.
Thoughts of her drive me insane.
How I longed to be with her.

My seductress…

Sweet, sweet woman, my greatest sin.
I’m in love with another.
Never shall I desert her.
Farewell… My seductress…
(c) Montes1275 @ 2009
His image an Adonis,
endearing and flawless.
Rotten as his conscience!
His speech a lovely promise,
satisfaction to hear.
Sickening as his breath.

He came as a Gabriel,
a messenger of hope.
Alas a fallen one,
with black wings and soul!

Close your eyes at his face.
Feel him with your senses,
and see his deception.
Ignore his angelic voice,
and feel his lies.
A dark angel in disguise.

He can be your archangel,
but never your protector.
An angel from hell.
His sole aim- to lure!
(c) Montes1275 *2010
Ugly lashings on my skin,
still fresh from within.
It bleeds and painfully burns,
I taste it with scorn.
Little bones break with a snap,
unbearable crunch.
I limp away with boldness,
laughing with such craze.
She whispers her sweetest lines,
nasty evil lies!
Some test for my sanity,
my great agony.
(c) Montes1275*2010
Once the most glorious creatures,
now the condemned beings.
They were the favorite of God.
Yet, they betrayed His trust.

                                              
Cast out forever from heaven,
thrown in the pits of hell.
These creatures hold a vendetta,
to steal the souls of men.

                                            
They have attractive disguises,
deceptive devices.
Demons manipulate a fiend,
even a trusted friend
(c) 1275Montes*2010
Next page