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CannibalWhat a taste which has scarred the very life out of me, and I cannot seem to get such a taste out of my
Mouth, mushing such hymns only to buzz out and roll back and forth over my tongue, for I am deathly
Frightened my mind has swept into the bitter delusion of darkness, and has made my flesh have the
Urge to seek pleasure, which I so do not wish to conquer, I am hungry for the chase such ones should
Hurry and stab out the light, for I am ready to taste the blood and let it run down my chin, cease for your
Life, for I cannot seem to hold this grudge any longer, so please forgive me when I bulge and rip through
Your skin, for it is not wh
Burial if you find this
cremate my feelings
put my thoughts in a mausoleum
bury my heart in a wooden coffin
dump my soul into the sea
just leave my body here.
Death's HandsGo ahead and peel back my skin, so you can see the pain I have for so long enclosed trickle down from
My veins, here I lie with such agonizing symptoms, how maddening it is to see me this way, so go ahead
And build me a bed in the earth, while doing so cover me up with the dark earthen grain, I am merely
Paralyzed and here I remain as my blood sinks deep down into the roots, making the earth feel numb,
I am blessed with death’s hands, as it takes and devours me with no mercy intact, but how long can you
Remain with such a secret, without festering thoughts beginning to go about around your mind, making
You tower over with guilt&he
Recreate and ControlFormaldehyde bracelets twined bitterly with dusted cuffs of expected rust; a must to overprotect the masses, for their minds contain our very lust.
Twice paid the price our souls have completed, to deplete the credentials from exterior's precision; it maintains the strength we have always needed, one to eliminate the wisdom's decision.
To the highest of clouds we stray near subduction, our rays of lied blindness obscure those in the plains; factories of children lay wasted in grounds, here shall begin our wretched games.
Birthed before us the acquainted fallen, risen now are the mindless dead; our slaves have at last clearly awakened, let
House Of The DamnedHouse Of The Damned
The ghost felt forgotten in the house of the damned
Since his wife and child had died in a car crash
The madness and depression had set in
He spent night after night in his office
Listening to the voices in his head
And writing in his journal
Short stories, poems and observations
He thought he had an unique talent
A modern day Edgar Allan Poe
After his death he hoped he would be famous
He sent his poetry to publishers
But always got a negative response
The alcohol helped ease the pain
Dampened down the negative thoughts
One night everything fell apart
He played a piece of sad classical music
He took a few pills and some r
Treated like a StrangerMerciless creature you have bitten off my wings and devoured them whole, in promise that my hope
Would be gone, you left me for dead in this dreary pool of blood, why do you treat me like a stranger,
What did I do to deserve such silence? why can we not be more than this, if you want to play then I’ll
Pretend and have it my way, I will tape your mouth so I can say I have won, nothing pays to have such
Silence of yours, and see your cunning eyes go back into your skull, I am but a joker and you are the
King mocking me with your surrounding peasants, but you just wait for such mockery will lead
To your undoing……
Death WalkEyes closed you can still feel the night
Darkness embraces this loss of sight
Listen quite closely and you shall find
There is no such thing as silence of mind
Thoughts wailing in a scream and roll
Shrieking banshees twirling out of control
Overwhelmed these sounds tear within thee
Eyes sewn shut by fright and no longer see
Lost within this seemingly timeless breath
The path we walk is the path of death
DespairAcross the bellowing sky comes abroad and leads to a road, full of longing screams and cries, with voices
Telling curious souls not to go farther for they will become perished with bellowing plagues accustomed
To the lurking sonnets, hoping such ones will come to take away their sins, and free their lost locked
Away minds, a recipe for despair over scourges the land, blinding already swelled bloodied eyes, such
Burning emptiness enters into this road of vile obscenities, only to swallow those up ablaze who are
Weak and inferior, whose hearts have already bursted open being liable to suffer….
Liar, liar, Soul on fireLiar, liar,
Soul on fire,
Now you hang
By razor wire.
You come to me,
Then try to run.
But you are caught
In my web of fun.
You return, yet again
To the towers three.
Your body and soul
Belong to me.
You try to lie,
But you only deceive yourself!
I’m no longer chasing,
Your no longer in health.
You don’t know yet,
Well, let me show,
Walk on through.
I’m sure you do,
I know you hear the blades singing.
You started off
In the towers,
And you escaped.
Or did you?
You lie, but only to you.
Who do you think your trying to fool?
Not me, not them, not you.
And now I say, welcome, to t
L'Ankou des pluies
La Mort va, la nuit,
Par les chemins creux,
Trempés de pluie,
Nourrir de vie
Le froid appétit
De sa lame.
No One Can Hear You ScreamSilence prevails,
an endless, comfortless silence,
which is worse than death,
because you remain conscious
of how utterly alone you are.
All dreams are nightmares
that come without sleep
when you never know if you
Time is without meaning,
and you begin to wonder
if you still have any existence,
even madness dare not tread here,
but instead something worse,
and yet unnamable, unknowable,
the utter loss of self.
Denied even the mercy
of waiting upon death,
when you cannot even be certain
of what life is any longer.
How easily the mind turns against you,
begins to consume itself,
and you can no longer trust your own thoughts,
~Death Poem"One Moon, Many Stars
One Murderer, Many Deaths
If You Wake Up With This Text,
You Will Be The Next"
Catching death of coldIt’s cold, COLD, there’s frost and icicles at me bones
Feeling cold, COLD, I stand and face the chill alone
No sun, no moon, no stars, nothing to tell me what time it is
Oh it’s cold, it’s COLD, and now my mind’s all gone to frizz
With the arctic at my backdoor, and winter at me front
The frost and chill be prowling, I can feel it on the hunt
Icy vines they creeping up my arms, tiny tendrils they unfurl
Feeling cold, COLD, winter’s dominating my world.
Jack Frost has come to take me, he’s broken into my home
Sees my heart be icy cold, yet warm blood beneath my bones
His winter’s all about me,
Ode to the SirenShe calls to me with song and my strong heart melts,
Like iron cast into the forge,
Enthralled by her beauty I come forward,
Even though I know,
That she only seeks to gorge,
Upon my flesh,
Staring up into her eyes,
I know that smarter guys would despise,
My utter weakness to her spell,
Gnawing my neck down to the bone,
I know that she will drag me into the depths Hell,
But it is as if my legs are cast in stone,
I do not flee even though I see,
Imminent doom approaching,
As the reapers come for me,
Isn’t it tragic,
How I have fallen victim to her magic?
----Engraved into the walls of a vacant ship docked
within the harbor of Port
Waken From Eternal SlumberBubble bubble,
toil and trouble.
Wake the dead,
and burst your bubble.
Rise from the graves,
rotten little slaves.
Dragged up from Hell,
from decaying dark caves.
A horrific master,
heart rate beating faster.
an apocalyptic disaster.
Ripped limb from limb,
a pool of blood to swim.
Hungry for the living,
cups filled to the brim.
Vacant coffins cracking,
broken with violent smacking.
Hearts are set on fire,
Egotistical zombie slacking.
Poetic's Mush MouthStitching shadows
to sarcastic silhouettes.
symbolic of nothing.
into manifested monopoly.
Crucifix caught by
they are fed.
is easier than
And if no one see's your shadows,
why bother to have them?
My mind mentions
The Cruel October MoonSimply the lavender of moonlight.
Walking along an emptied road
The cool October air
kissing my skin
It was Halloween,
where was my costume?
rinsing down riverside
Hope for a hand
to break the fall.
Crossing the creek,
without a palm
to press to.
I made it anyway,
and this side
of the river
didn't want me.
October was cruel
for the harvest moon
turned your skin
to silk champiegn
I finally found your
they cradled me
To Bleed BleachStatic eating
there are better ways
Sutures not strong enough,
to hold me together.
are stuck in my wounds.
White veins bleed bleach.
Nerves scream beneath scalpels.
am sick enough
Riddled with barcode scars,
The Ocean Smells Of DecayI am washed up carrion,
on plastic sand beaches.
Sea urchins eat away
at my cardiac muscle,
hermit crabs find shelter
amongst my flesh.
The salt brine has me tasting of
tears and high-blood pressure,
Seagulls are regurgitating me in chunks.
Not the urchins,
they liquefy my filth
the clawed-hermits live within
from my rotted tissue.
I smell like low-tide
and smoothed over
pieces of glass,
stranded with me.
Dawn reveals the stench
of my dissipation,
and I find
I am not
I Am Certain I Cannot FeelI am almost certain of it.
Time is silk, but when it unravels, the shreds are crimson and undeniably existent. I watch the tattered fabric drift to a graveyard, where it's color caught the eye of rotting corpses. The abandoned bodies beg for a shred of life, just a little more time, but their veins are too decayed to exist anymore.
And this, this is my blood.
I stare at nerves vacant of impulses, far too frozen to feel anymore. This numbness has goose bumps crawling out from under my skin, and I'm ashamed to say I can longer perceive the cold.
For I, am frozen from the inside out.
Granite tombstones and polished angels, my collap
A Cold ComplaintChandelier aqua frosting my lungs. A temperature completely clear and quite cold.
I am siphoning cyanide into ice cubes.
Snow on charcoal blacktops. Barren wastes of the artic. Every desert needs a tumbleweed,
and I, am a stable excuse.
Subzero surface of the whirlpool, seals the torrent beneath. These glaciers,
can only grow denser.
Solid remains of frostbite. Toes bruised with black tissue. My severed complaints,
I no longer,
Clarity Through Pinhole EyesThis leather-faced beauty, once belonged to me.
Empty-headed nostalgia stained to consciousness. Watch the concrete-chunk agony leak through pin pricked eyelids.
Still she cannot feel it.
Thirsty fingers reaching through the wax rib-flesh. A quiet pleading; smoke curling through the eardrum. Voices taunting
t h o s e h a n d s
To mutilate the most tender, fragile muscle.
Oh and it burns
but when the scalpel is this sharp
it tears right through
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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