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Satan Jun 2011
When i was a little child, my father told me a story about a young man who went missing.
They had been looking for him for years. He was nowhere to be found.
He was last seen standing by a river nearby looking strange and cold.

They believed he drownt and died.
But She believed she was still alive.
She said she could feel his presence wandering around among the trees.
She was there everyday waiting for him.
Years passed by....
She had been waiting...
So patiently...

One cold morning they found her lying on the ground...
Motionless...
Covered with mud and dead leaves...
When she woke up she said she saw him...
Still handsome as could be...
But he was trapped...
Neither alive nor dead...

The next day they found her leaning motionless on a willow tree by the river...
My daughter...
My sad daughter...
Satan Jun 2011
When i was a little child, my father told me a story about a young man who went missing.
They had been looking for him for years. He was nowhere to be found.
He was last seen standing by a river nearby looking strange and cold.

They believed he drownt and died.
But She believed she was still alive.
She said she could feel his presence wandering around among the trees.
She was there everyday waiting for him.
Years passed by....
She had been waiting...
So patiently...

One cold morning they found her lying on the ground...
Motionless...
Covered with mud and dead leaves...
When she woke up she said she saw him...
Still handsome as could be...
But he was trapped...
Neither alive nor dead...

The next day they found her leaning motionless on a willow tree by the river...
My daughter...
My sad daughter...
Satan Jun 2011
When i was a little child, my father told me a story about a young man who went missing.
They had been looking for him for years. He was nowhere to be found.
He was last seen standing by a river nearby looking strange and cold.

They believed he drownt and died.
But She believed she was still alive.
She said she could feel his presence wandering around among the trees.
She was there everyday waiting for him.
Years passed by....
She had been waiting...
So patiently...

One cold morning they found her lying on the ground...
Motionless...
Covered with mud and dead leaves...
When she woke up she said she saw him...
Still handsome as could be...
But he was trapped...
Neither alive nor dead...

The next day they found her leaning motionless on a willow tree by the river...
My daughter...
My sad daughter...
J J Aug 2019
Autumn,with the force of rapid thunder
Dawns the sky, clawing the lake asunder
  Beneath our steps
As we leapt
  To,fro,and to again;

Here we burn, trapped to our limboid sojourn
Gasping for air as the Daemon sits without a care
Tracing and chasing the ends of his thinning thread
Connecting to our voodoo dolls, laments of our death
In silent whispers only existant at all by the dents
Where our mouths should be.

This dreaded haunting, this memory looped
With crimson nails the Daemon draws hoops
Pliable as a smoke ring from laughing lips,
The Daemon strings us by his fingertips—
Reminds us we alone created hell on earth—
You can taste it in the kicked up dust,
The unlexical powder that remarks our birth
In this stale heat, our skin starts to crust.

I called you my best yet, you said I was a settlement in a lost bet,
I called you a ***** and wished I drownt you in the wishing well
Where you'd only have other mute spirits left to tell; I set

Out on a ****** scheme that night--
To slit your throat as you awoke and watch you fight
Without a chance.
I watched you in your contorted dance and felt you lift,
Shiver and go stiff
Dying in my arms. But as I sighed I felt invisible red eyes
Settle on us from the willows
Behind the blindness window.

I heard a needle scrape, a scornful moan and a bat's descry.
I knew then I truly was the pawn in a wicked game
Who's evil was signatured in our name.

The devil netted your soul dear, and already had mine.
And as I sat straddled over your limpid frame, frozen in time
And feeling his nails, like worn toolbox screws, along my spine
I oddly thought pleasantly of better times:

Of our first meeting on that autumnal day, when caught in the breeze
And kissing discreetly
Amongst the trees
and along the lake we simontaniously compared to the mythical  Lethe.

I loved you then, oh how I did,
And in return, we'll love forever—
Us, the looping dead.
Fred McCarthy Dec 2010
I heard the crack of your heart.
And that hurt me even worse.
I heard the sound of your teardrops as they touched the floor.
That would leave marks for good.

I saw the tears in your eyes fog your sight up.
And that drownt my heart completely.
I saw the pain you embraced.
And that covered my world so badly.

Come fly with me...
Away from here...
To my trance...
Where you could see the sun go down as the world fades away.
Where the trees of autumn by the river are gilded by radiant snow.

Come fly with me...
Dennis Willis Nov 2020
**** the acknowledgment
of pre-created
grooves

They were madmen
early advertisers
hawking

Look-it looky here
looky looky lue
look you

Be drownt out
in your own life
by mine

Thas a complete
fools game
in rain

— The End —