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Rich Man's BoxesThe Stench is unbelievable,
He masks it with his sleeves.
He unearths his hidden treasure,
Stashes, and swiftly leaves.
By day he buries for those in black,
( I watch him from my tree)
He marks the box-holes with a cross,
And leaves the worms for me.
By night-fall he returns to dig,
The indecisive man!
He takes the still-one from it’s box,
And drags it to his clan.
Ah! What a life it is to live.
Though morbid as it seems;
These bountiful wooden boxes
Are born of rich man’s’ dreams.
I bury them for the mourners,
Read from their book of lies.
But little do these mourners know,
I feast on their demise.
Judged only by the g
ThinkingThinking and thinking way too much,
Scaring myself into this rut,
Horrified of what it should be,
Hoping not to be scared off me,
Running so far so very scared,
It doesn't make sense no where,
Frightened and heart pounding,
Heard these words so demanding,
Screaming so very deep inside,
I can sit here and merely cry.
I am the MurdererEleventh hour of the day,
You will learn to fade away,
In the darkness isn't it right?
To be forgot in the night?
Keep on moving what do you see?
Oh are you behind me?
Try to kill me yes i see,
Just a knife is what i need.
To leave now without further to do,
For i will murder you,
Hurt my family kill my friends,
Damage the insides of all that mends,
To be punished damned to hell,
You won't know what i tell.
Take it back now you see,
You decided to hurt me,
Death and pain comes with a toll,
Never wanting it to show,
A murderer now walks the street,
For now it is me.
Insane otherEvery single drawing drove her upset,
Every single drawing came like the rest.
Never satisfied with all divine,
Knowing it all just began with a rhyme.
Just like her drawings she can't speak a thing,
Thinking and thinking made her insane.
Looking around so frequently,
Waiting for death to come swiftly.
Jack the RipperLooking up
From a body cold
Are frosty eyes
Unseeing and still
After a gruesome kill
Done by a man
A merciless mystery
Jack the Ripper
A piece of history
Or is he?
Executioner.Feel that heart drumming?
Well it's gonna stop one day;
so better get your adrenaline running.
If wise you'll seize no delay:
Because that knife I pulled from my back will take your life away.
Blood still drenches it fresh-
I bet you're anxious to sense how it coheres with your own.
Like a viper she'll maim your flesh,
bury herself into your chest,
and find her way to the marrow of your godforsaken bones.
I see liquid copper gurgle from your throat already;
you can't breathe- I wonder why it's no longer slow and steady?
What was a tongue, now nothing but a incompetent lump of carrion,
but worry not, knave:
Those whose mouths are poisoned by
Reoccurring SlightlyThinking and thinking yes again,
But its reoccurring not so bad,
Although death is seen in my eyes,
My death means nothing to those who cry,
I wish a farewell to not be seen,
But i'm not killed as i used to be,
Death is common as is the scene,
I look to the left and think again,
Wondering where it will end.
She Isn't Sorry...Somberly pacing darkened halls,
She harkens to the midnight calls
Of silken-shrouded, haunted Things
Which soar on ghastly cobwebbed wings...
Her honeymoon ended in a flash
Of steel; her knife left a gash
Deep in her lover's faithless heart;
Such is the price of seducing art!
Primly she sits in her padded cell,
Smiling as she harkens to the knell
Of funereal chimes in the graveyard cold;
"They're burying him in the dark dank mould!"
Don't Go In The WoodsIf you ever go walking in the woods.
Late at night.
Take my words into consideration.
Beware the blood red moon.
For when you see that.
It is when you know..
That the Hessian is on the prowl.
He races through the night.
Hunting for his prey.
His gaze and teeth are razor sharp.
He'll chop off your head..
And steal your heart.
If you seek the bloodthirsty one.
The one known as the Hessian.
Make a turn to the Indian trail.
To the tree of the dead.
But be sure not to come alone.
As he's always looking for more victims.
Climb down carefully to the Hessian's lair.
Can you hear him roaring?
If you can.
Say your prayers.
And don't fo
UntitledPain and sorrow goes tomorrow,
As long as it shows we will know,
Coming near we are choked,
Running near but in the cold,
Never knowing what to do,
Trying hard to keep hope,
Remembering its not me nope,
Feel like hiding over again,
Hoping i can't be found again,
But to be in pain and run away,
Doesn't help me in resembling,
I can't run and help all that hide,
I'm not helpful in that tide.
Things Ill Never ShareIt’s been too long since I have seen
A familiar face inside my dreams
Covered bodies, constant blurs
Voices echo into slurs
All I see are eyes that stare
There’s bloodshed in my nightmares
And, although I never try to be
The killer ends up being me
I awake and never feel at rest
Sleepless nights weighed down by stress
That instinct lives within my thoughts
A sickness, a virus that never stops
It seems I’ve lead myself to think
I need a smoke or maybe a drink
An outlet, but I must resist
Biting my nails or cutting my wrists
I will always fight this urge to kill
I can remain calm and tranquil
Its only human to have this d
The Night Shift.I’m down for a diaper change because it’s about time, I put trust in you and you ask me of mine.
I lie on my back and let you undo the tape, unaware to you now but the time will soon change.
You stare down the look on my blushing red face, and wonder how it feels to be in my place.
I know what you’re thinking from my eyes that see all, eyes that stare back as your guard starts to fall.
Without a warning you’re trapped in my gaze, your eyes start to haze, you’re lost and you’re dazed.
I reach from the floor and put my hand on your heart, your soul’s in the light but afraid of the dark.
I know tha
A Very Short Silent Hill PoemBlood and rust on the wall, she's planning to kill us all.
Might as well enjoy the carousel. Spinning horses with no tail.
"You can run, but you can't hide..." A voice giggles from inside.
We cry with all our might, until god is satisfied.
WerewolfDon't walk with me
I'll walk alone
I don't want you to see
My yelps, my moan
My ears grow wolf-like
I sprout sharp claws
Don't take a hike
Avoid my jaws
I am a legend
I bite and I growl
Here's the end
Here's my howl
El Silencio Como ArmaHuid Lucifer
Lo que vuestro frenesí ha creado
Se pronuncia hoy por sobre tu trono
Huid, ni el infierno bastara por condena
El Seol se hará paraíso frente a mi demencia
Huid a prisa, te observan al descanso,
Mas en tu infortunio, la fatiga,
Dulce hermana, repudia y aborrece
De todos modos, estimada contraparte,
Es una amante que eternamente te cortejará
¿Aullido de la noche?
¿Habrá para vos temor más insoportable?
¿Mi sigilo en el alba?
La muerte resulta un presente
Enviar licántropos tras tus huellas,
Ver tú alzar ante los molinos de vuestra fuga,
Glorificar la tierra, comerciante de tu gloria,
Regateando los muñones de tu dignidad…
No recuerdo manjar más exquisito
Que ahogara mi vista en tan cruel mueca
Bosques, susurradores de mi nombre
Desiertos, clones de mi colmillo favorito
Y el mar, Leviatán, mi buen amigo…
Haz de tu solaz su talar
Tu gana bárbara
Apocalypse Island/Excerpt IIIThe man quickly reached for his hunting knife in the sheath on his belt. Luckily, he hadn't lost it in the fall. He quickly unsheathed it and found his footing beneath him. The undead was swiftly barrelling towards him now, fiercely screaming at a deafening tone. Its mouth hung awkwardly low as if it had a broken jaw. Its eyes bugged out of its head with frightening rage and intensity. The undead's army fatigues were soiled and bloody, but not old. This being had not been undead long. The man readied himself as the undead drew closer. Just as it was about to engulf him, the man quickly juked to one side and swept the undead's legs out from be
Apocalypse Island/Excerpt IIThe man suddenly heard slow, lumbering footsteps approaching his vicinity. He laid down his pack and shouldered his crossbow. The man carefully scanned the jungle for any signs of the undead. He could smell a mixture of decaying flesh and feces in the air. He then spotted an undead male, no more than 18 years old, shuffling towards him. He had numerous bullet wounds scattered over his torso, and a shotgun wound revealed his insides. Blood stained his face and neck and tainted his already soiled clothing. The man carefully advanced for a better shot. The undead's eyes were sunken in and glazed over with a blue-moon hue. His lips snarled as he
Dead HorizonsDeep in a nightmare of sleep, his boney finger twitched rapidly and grazed over the trigger of his double barrelled shotgun. He was suddenly ripped out of sleep as the deafening shotgun round was discharged, narrowly missing his head. As he gathered his thoughts, he realized he had fallen asleep on the rooftop balcony. With hunger biting at his stomach, he gradually brought himself to his feet and scanned the morning horizon, as he had done countless times before. The pounding on the rooftop door began almost immediately, and quickly grew unnerving. His body turned cold, and felt as if it were shutting down. He then retreated into his den and
Our Dire FateA world condemned to a dire fate
Putrid corpses, forgotten forces of death and destruction, risen to destroy.
Ripping away, and tearing decay, from what is left, of humanity.
Spreading forward to consume it all, foundations destined to fall, upon us all.
Ripping away, and tearing decay from what is left of humanity.
No way, to delay, this decay, no replay.
The DirtPeople go their whole lives without moving more than the dirt their buried under, rotting in endless droves, shovelling their graves.
They dig with bloody splintered hands, and kiss regret with the tip of their shovels.
I can hear their screams, their muffled. I can hear them suffer, bleeding.
Dig no less than six feet under.
God said to me that their not worth my air, Satan then chimed the funeral bell.
God replied to me that he doesn't care, bury them six feet closer to hell.
People go their whole lives without moving more than the dirt their buried under, rotting in endless droves shovelling their graves.
Apocalypse Island/ExcerptThe moon lit up the camp as the man slept lightly, always remaining vigil. He had chosen to remain on his own, ever since the beginning of the undead apocalypse. He had always been somewhat of a loner. He had no wife, no family to speak of on the island. He thought to himself, amidst the chaos of the unravelling of society that he ought to remain alone, and out of sight of the military. For the military, during this time, was acting on its own behalf. No orders from Washington, no higher ups, no red tape, no morals to distract them from their task at hand. The military's only perspective was to eliminate the threat of the undead and other sur
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More