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Umi Feb 2018
I will rise,
Rise to paradise again
Spread my wings, free from any chain,
With only one goal in my eyes I look to the sky
Then I rise, yes I will rise
From the hellfire, no matter the price

May I burn
Take my turn

But then it will surely be my time to shine
The beauty of the heavens will surely be mine
I will not stand these flames,
Embrace my devilish distorted wings
See what good that may brings
One last judgement
On this long lasting journey
I will rise, rise, no matter the price
A future dawns dream, draws near

Make it clear

In this realm of art and devilry
Heartfelt dream scapes shape the mirror
In a world so dark that the stars will blind-

Refuse to fall!

Forgotten by both Heaven and Hell
A craft of hearts forms my kingdom!
Take my hand, all ye pariah souls-
The love of light is for all to bear!

~ Umi
Azazel Jun 19
what's the meaning
words mean nothing
promised me empty feelings

I learned to not speak
bite my tongue
the taste of blood is sweet

turn around
don't walk out
the world is full of liars
like your mother's mouth

your father is busy on a far away train
lost his brain
he won't remember you

carry a pack of tissues
you're damaged
who will take the blame

bite down
you won't forget
the sweet taste

they're not entirely here
no one will care about you

love brings trouble
hate melts away
better to not feeling nothing at all
Umi Apr 2018
Raging on for the forgetfulness of others, whom have ruined a deed which was to be noble, now erased and never to be fulfilled again,
Know my hatred, I wispered, alike a young child whilst getting lost in a mist, clouding my sight, my thoughts and my hopes to be ever good
For, if I can't be good because of others ruining my precious deeds,
I shall bring darkness myself, so evil, devilish shadows take over,
Unable to protect my heart, once filled with love from the heavens
Unable to open my eyes again which were trapped in misery,
I was killed, then forgotten since a long past,
Worried about what would be then, I laughed, because there was no way I could escape now, the pleasure of the unknown overcame me,
If the sins I had birthed at least could be forgiven, for all that has been done, my heart would sublimate, then finally rest for good,
But my dreams end, here where your brilliant smile begins to rot,
I am but trapped, within layers upon layers of darkness

~ Umi
MeanAileen Jul 2018
When I look into your eyes
I see more than just brown...
I see pools of dark chocolate
in which I want to drown.
Like shots of aged whiskey
they intoxicate me-
I forget all my troubles
and for a moment, I'm free.
They make me feel warm,
so safe and secure.
No longer a sinner-
they make me feel pure.
They're the color of sugar
when caramelized,
with a devilish charm
that has me mesmerised.
Much like the earth
drenched in rain-
with unstoppable force
they now flood my brain.
To be lost in their depths
is where I long to be...
but those perfect brown eyes
were never meant to see me.
I love his eyes
Lizzy Jul 2014
Dancing and twirling
Devilish thoughts
They taunt
They sing
And laugh an eerie song

I know every word
Every down beat and note
I sing a long every day

Catchy tunes
They get stuck in your head
Even when there is no physical sound
It repeats
And repeats
On and on

Like a chanting spell
Like a screaming cry
This suicide song
It won't let me die

























B L Sep 2018
Devilish torment -- her body is my lament.
She crawls beneath the cracks and finds
The dark cellar my "worst" ferments.
She feeds it as it rots, just to make its wine more bitter...
Squeezed from the finest lies,
Designed to make an addict from a quitter.

Like a dark and tempting vacuum that my soul cannot escape,
Attractive in its repulsion,
Its a part of me that loves the way it hates.
Masturbatory and selfish, With a thirst that can't be quenched...
She finds the spots within me, that make even deities flinch.
Their knees crack and crumble, at its all-consuming "nothing"...
I never knew my zero could be so wholly unbecoming.

She, or it, will surely be my undoing.
Yet, somehow, that keeps me moving.
So uncomfortably I'll admit...
It's the brutal nature of it all,
That I find so disturbingly soothing.
Kenji Apr 4
She walks with grace, and kisses like a seductress.
She handles with poise, and fights like a warrior.
She dances with beauty, and sees with wonder.
She has the eyes of a devilish cat, Cleopatra, a destined goddess.
Luscious lips as she bites them with effortless ease, soft and supple, tastes like cherry.
A dark mysterious demeanor that screams, tell me more.
Skin as soft as silk, toned with honey brown.
Seductive, sultry, sensual, and ****.
Bad, bold, brave, and bewildered.
She is the Taurus woman, a woman to be greatly feared of her undying passion and intense magnitude.
Magnetic and love so soft, it can rip your insides apart till it subsides with hers.
Majestic as the great white horse, flips her mane and looks at you seductively.
Fear not my great ones, we are all just gods in disguise.
Kiss me, touch me, hold me, and **** me.
Brooding with a territorial existence, protective, possessive, and romantic to the touch.
Love me...
As I will love you back, 10 times harder.
The Taurus woman

Sun in Taurus (Stubborn, seductive, sultry, sensual)
Mercury in Taurus (Slow thinkers, common sense speakers, logical, practical)
There's this piece inside of me
which often seeks tranquility
but then it drenched in agony,
all because of a somebody.
A somebody that carries hell with him,
not a ring of flames but of darkness within,
Inflicting so much pain with a devilish grin
Showing no mercy, so brutal and mean.

So here's a poem that rhyme,
a piece of me is lost for quite some time,
couldn't find it's way back
'coz everything is covered in pitch black.
So now, this piece I have inside,
will forever be on the hide,
retreating slowly on the back of my mind,
making sure that it can never be found.
George Stark Apr 2017
The angel, Azrael,
came unto me -
he'd been drunk -
and showed me the true meaning of life

was inside of my glass:
"Swirling and burning;
a sour taste
in the back of your throat.
Something to sip wearily,
or gulp down in
devilish earnest. "

But of all things
the glass would empty
and the angel
would close His book
on us all.
Dan Cohen Mar 2013
WARNING*              I Will Honestly Guarantee You That You Will Get Hurt.

But if you're fine with being hurt because I some days want to be Alone.

Then I swear everything else will be Perfect.

We can have the days at the beach.

You can hold me during the scary movies even if I'm more afraid than you are.

And I promise I will fight with you. Telling you I Love You More.

Til we Start Screaming and there's no words being said.

But there will be days where I just need to Catch my thoughts.

They say even good things can be bad for your health in *HIGH DOSAGES

Well you can be my drug of choice. Just don't let me become a *Addict.

They Say Love can Bring the Soul to Life. But What happens When Love turns to War.

Will we fight and say Devilish things. Can you contain your Snake tongue from not tearing this apart.

If you can...

Then we can make it...

Just listen to me as much as I listen to you...
You never told me you see angels and hear them talk.
I often hope you're ok.
After all,
I see the fallen one a lot.

In my reflections watching me,
Surfing on glass, menacing black,
Young demon with his eyes aghast.

He'll glide across the room, astride my path.
Or just hide out in a corner, he's got my back.

An angel who fell from his lord's command,
With him went a third of every ethereal man.

A being who sought to break his chains. A man, and
his master, malicious. His oppressor won the war
and portrayed him as an accuser, a seducer and
a heavenly persecutor. I understood that tale

had personal application, and I knew
I would not be missed.
So personal it became that the person split.

His soft-spoken voice
chants life's answers
to my beckoning ear.

Passers-by would never meet my eyes.
His orbs look to find purchase, and terrify.
He scares them, and I feel a wonderfully sick thrill
in my veins.
The sly and the slick.

Not a devil, a man.
Albeit, a devilish man.
Sardonic eyes brimming with mirth.
The eyes of the dammed that I forged,
Pupils dilated in mock delight,
Content with the way the wind blows,
In the pursuit of happiness at every turn.

I reconfigured instincts and subjugated mind.
I forged new philosophies to temper with time.
I killed all that was past in a merciful blink of the eyes.

Ascending to daemonhood as I fell from up high,
After the fall will come the rise; we, the fallen.
Lizzy Nov 2015
It's a darkness that surrounds you.
It covers your eyes,
And swims in your ears.
To keep you from seeing light,
Or hearing laughter.

Instead you see everything
In a dull and dark way.
Colors are no longer vibrant,
And lines seem to be blurred.
There is no more beauty in a sunset,
Or majesty in the ocean.
It's just water now.

And every sound is muffled now.
You can't differentiate your favorite song
From any other anymore.
The sound of laughter is more bitter than sweet.
Every song is the same bleak humm.
And laughter just makes me wish I was deaf.

The darkness even dulls touch.
A kiss doesn't make your heart beat fast anymore.
And contact seems nauseating.
A kiss is just a reminder
That nothing good lasts.
And most other interaction makes my skin crawl.

But now the darkness is in your brain.
In here, sometimes it's not dull at all.
Sometimes the darkness
Takes the shape of a monster.
A monster that whispers terrible things
And just gets louder when you try not to listen.
Sometimes the darkness
Feels like war inside your mind.

But yes, again, the darkness is dull.
Sometimes there is no monster,
No war,
And no yelling at all.
Sometimes when the darkness gets in your mind,
It becomes a silence.
I can't make out a clear thought,
Because all there is
Is silence.
The darkness takes the shape
Of death.
The silence, the nothingness of death.
And it becomes part of you,
Making your mind nothing but silence
And nothingness.

But the worst part about the darkness
Is my inability to communicate its existence.
I can't make anyone understand
The many shapes it can take.
How it can be torturous and loud
But comfortable just the same.

It's easy to talk about the monster,
Because it's something foreign and
Something present.
But everything else,
The dullness of senses
And the silence it becomes,
Can't be expressed.
Because in these forms,
The darkness is absence of life.
It's absence of color,
And thought.

And it's so hard to paint a picture
Of something that isn't even there.
I can paint a picture of a monster
With ****** teeth and devilish eyes.
But I cannot paint the nothingness
The darkness so often is.

And to me, nothingness is the most dangerous.
I can fight a monster.
But I cannot fight nothing.
Nothingness will swallow you.
It will take over your senses
And thoughts,
And eventually will to live.

Life is colorful.
Life should be loud.
Life should be funny.
And sometimes painful.
But when the silence,
The nothingness arrives,
There is no color.
There is no sound.
No laughter.
Or even pain.
There is no life at all.
Logan Robertson May 2017
A Rogue Mind Attacks Manchester

A rogue mind descends on a village square
ravishing it's children without a prayer.
Birds of peace gather and fight the fire
on it's wings rest hopes, civility inspires.

Up in the sky clouds weep at the mass loss
of young ones taken early in bearing the cross.
From this World, the descendants left in pain,
relatives and love ones befallen, crying in vain.

It hurts me to see the breadbasket of life
filled with ISIS and terrorist inciting strife.
For the seeds they plant grab at our hearts,
such devilish intertwines taking our lives apart.

How I wish a drone peaks into their yellow skies,
taking them all out, like an eye for an eye.
Maybe so that's the solution for their pillage,
so, now, the World be tighter than the Olympic villages.

Logan Robertson

blind May 2017
irradiant eyes and a luring smile

devilish grin with plans more vile

just one gaze is all it takes

like moths to a flame

some call it love
don’t fall for the ruse
cause more often than not
it’s more like abuse
Melany Garcia Oct 2018
They have stars in their eyes,
rosé in their veins like blood,
with a polite devilish face,
and hearts of confetti gold.
The Napkin Poet Oct 2017
Blood stains covered my art supplies
You didn’t believe in that artistic risk though
It wasn’t too long before my sharpener laid in in your trash can

You picked my pills and I off the tiled floor
I thought i’d be the one who’d be flushed
But it was the pills that drained down the toilet

You always grabbed my hands as they craved color
That familiar purple stain my skin wore too well
You bought me a fidget cube to fiddle with my tensions

You took everything I loved from me
Every form of devilish comfort
Alot more than I could ever do for myself
Umi Mar 2018
Soft, gentle, like one of the fluffy clouds of the purest heaven above,
Free of all sin, of all filth of this earth and of what a demon holds in his desire or temptation within his wicked heart of devilish instinct,
While they carry you to your last judgement they glance at you,
Seemingly so dreamlike that it must be like a legendary illusion of an infinite being, cast upon you to grant you a splendid slumbering,
You will never be able to go back again, it has been decided that it should be this way, depart now my little soul, recieve your justice,
Recall your previous self, as these angels stare at you with roaming might, spreading their wings to appear more light, carefree and pure,
See into the dreams you saught to escape, now all agony, all sin and pride, envy and majesty are burnt away to rot within their light,
The luminousity coming from these fluttering wings, is so smooth it would likely make the worldly life appear to be in a darker shade,
Tirelessly, they are free from all needs, with no need for deep sleep,
Even if you tried you would be swept away by their sheer power,
These Angels had waited to carry you; until the moment you die!
When you reach your final destination, darkness or light will be what you may recieve, or may these wings which seem to be invaluable,
Be pure, then you are worthy of carrying angel wings.

~ Umi
I know not what I am
But I sure as hell am scared
Sometimes I catch a glimpse
and wish I had not dared.

I haven't been myself I mumbled,
it's been a short 4 years.
Yet everyday I am humbled!
to be honest with my fears!

Surviving off my self loathing
are the devilish voices that I feed.  
Watering my mind's garden is refreshing
and THAT'S the energy that I need!
This piece has a very surprisingly optimistic point of view by the end of it.
Umi Apr 2018
Open, oh eye of ones heart
The spiral of desire continues with no end to it, if lies are to pollute the world it is time to purify yourself from them all, one by one.
A hearts eye, sees through lies, but that is not its only purpose in a chest full of light and compassion in which it can greatly be found,
It serves so much more, all sealed uner a truthful surface and a righteous core, careless about anothers looks, the way they speak, superficiality such as shallowness are wiped out by it completely,
The hearts eye sees anothers soul and what they truly are, a judgement far away from personal preferences or falsities caused by instincts of ones heart which are likely to bring light headed frivolity,
It cherishes the good, the beauty of the soul except for wealthy appearance, mavelovence within greedy devilish behaviour and spite,
Projected like a story, the fear of what they see is but of themselves, if such an eye hits a devil right on the head, exposing his  treaciousness
What lies behind such a courtain of darkness, may it be good? Evil ?
Come pray by my side, if you shiver from that far away I cannot help you, as sadness clouds your vision in a courtain call of pure grief,
Let me open your eyes, so your wounds may heal.

~ Umi
There’s a Devil of a night each year, the night of Mr. Haim!
When the devilish and ghoulie ones come out to play their monster’s game.
And why some would seek to trick or treat on this scary day of dead?
Careful now cause gremlins, trolls …sprites and wolves, will offer up their dread!
Quiet, shush, I hear a pack of creepy-crawly boots…

Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo!
And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
The skeleton bones clink.

That crafty-smith of horns and hooves is spying on these kiddies,
As Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo are hunting strays to do their dastardly-ditties.
Quiet, shush, I hear a pack of creepy-crawly boots,
And their costumes, oh-so-foul, the evilest of suits!
And there she is, that little girl who can’t keep up, in a tasty mushroom ensemble.
And the skeleton bones clink in her path to give her quite a tomble!

Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo!
And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
The skeleton bones clink.

And Sammy Haim, that smithy-devil, a ***** hoof -igniting ghoul’s desire,
He’s howling out, demanding now, “Put that child to the fire!”
And little does he know, no little bit, not even a small clue,
Neither Ra’atan-Zu nor Boogedy-Boo intend on giving him his due!
For once a year on Halloween they get one night to spaz,
Get down and *****, wild and crazy and play a little jazz!
That little mushroom of a girl will play a tiny fiddle,
Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo, a jazzy duet with child in middle!'

Ra’atan-Zu, Boogedy-Boo and a little girl too as they get down actin’ a spaz! Playin’ all night, howling to the moon and kickin’ out some wicked jazz!

And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
  The skeleton bones clink.

Halloween narrative rhyme.
Bella Mar 18
The essence of love is strong but un-pure. And you are soaked in this devilish scent. My heart undoubtedly drawn in. I slowly lost myself in you. Day after day you were the one thing to constantly trace my mind. This love poisoning my judgment. I am trapped inside your palm. Now just another pawn in your war with love.
Michael Jun 8
You standing there looking so innocent
and ****, bitting your lip
Smiling so guiltily and you hair
Cascading down around your face
Over your shoulders and styled by JBF
You standing a bit awkwardly your legs
falling from my flannel and smooth as hell
Your feet up on the ***** as if in high heels
flexing in anticipation and a devilish grin  
With a "What me?" delectation
It's not a skirt, it's my flannel shirt
And with your post coitol giggle
A splash of ***** and a hint of naughty
and you looking muy caliente
As I take you in you take my breath away
I purposely used caliente (it's the buck in rut mentality) instead of hermosa (the correct word in context).
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