[x]

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

The wellThe well, the well
draw no water from the well
The secrets of the depths no living can tell.

Listen, just listen
and then you will hear
the whispers of the children who were murdered here.

The girl, poor girl
she came to the well
a babe in her arms which in the water now dwell.

One more, one more
soon followed the first
crying so fiercely his tiny heart burst.

The girl, poor woman
brought a third to the grave
dead in her womb there was no life to save.

The fourth and fifth were born as one
she brought them to the well
and then there were none.

The woman was hanged from the old gallows tree
when the children grow silent
her soul shall

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!"

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.

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.

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

Jack the RipperLooking up
From a body cold
Withered skin
Decades old

Are frosty eyes
Unseeing and still
Staring out
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

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.

Rich Man's Boxes (re-drafted)The stench is hard to misperceive,
And so he masks it with his sleeve.
Unearthing his hidden treasure,
Drags it home at his own leisure.

By day he buries for those in black.
We watch from our trees, holding back.
He marks the box-holes with a cross,
Leaving our worms and upturned moss.

By nightfall he comes, with his spade,
Takes the still ones, his common raid,
Returns the box where it began,
O, Strange and indecisive man!

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,

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.

Don't Go In The WoodsIf you ever go walking in the woods.
Late at night.
Take my words into consideration.
And beware.

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

Blogmonstres-et-miroirs.kazeo.com/

*The Crypt*In vampire crypt eternal sleep
Decades pass and mould does creep
Where time no longer has a place
Dormant bodies beyond embrace.

Lured to sleep in timeless portal
Ancient ones who were not mortal
Vampire hunter with garnet eyes
Showed no mercy, they won't arise

Millenia passed they are not missed
Secret lost like morning mist
Crypt is safe, but who knows where?
Dormant fury caught in snare.

2013 Delice1941
23rd May2013

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

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Sonnet XLVIOp. 24, no. 4
Afterimage

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
An impasse of the senses and the mind.
The pain of loss that dwelt within the core
Is now a rift most painfully defined.
For when in far off distances I see
The form of her I held once to my breast,
My heart leaps, yearning, aching to be free,
Then plunges into depths of deep unrest.
That my own heart would stay unhurt,
I close my eyes, and yet beneath my lids,
The image of your smile's still overt.
Graffiti of the soul my mind forbids:
No soap or scrub could wash this stained slate clean,
Choose life or death; there is no in-between.

The UnderachieverYou say that love and understanding
is now your chief and core belief.

Why, wonderful! What an enlightened
sage we have. I think that
you deserve a gold star for your
troubles.
Keep your standards low; meet the lowest
bar.

The irony
(how sad it is!)
is how we sleep the righteous
status quo in
dreams. to dream!
I fear the mortal coil's been cast off.

Sonnet XLVOp. 24, no. 3
The Existence that Preceded Essence

I send them back again and straight grow sad,
The prayers of the friends I held most dear.
To see them reach to me makes me not mad
But sad at heart, so tears my vision blears.
In days not long before, my faith I held
As precious treasure, my identity,
But pent-up pressure in my heart rebelled,
Imploding all into perplexity.
This sudden change, I wonder if 'twas wise
To blame the powers of the fervent mind.
I've wasted years, my labors found demise,
Cast off in chunks like rotten orange rind.
No hope I have, my essence must I form,
Since all that once existed is deformed.

Let There Be LightThough pain comes in the night
And snares oppress the right in Him,
We know no worldly whim
Will satisfy the dim desires
Of weakest flesh that tires.
To pass through burning fires, this test
Refines us to our best,
That we could relish rest and peace
That will not simply cease
In us but still increase! We share
The comfort and the care
He gave when we were there. O great
And glorious King of fate!
From nothingness create your light!

A Song of Deepest LoveLet songs of deepest love pour from my heart
As streams of comfort flow out from my soul.
As inspiration strikes, my praise I start
With words as pure as bells could ever toll;
I praise the one with all I have, my art.

As streams of comfort flow out from my soul,
I share the joy with which I have been blessed
With words as pure as bells could ever toll.
In promises as good as done, I rest
Though all my strength vies for my skyward goal.

I share the joy with which I have been blessed,
I praise the one with all I have, my art.
In promises as good as done, I rest
As songs of deepest love pour from my heart,
And perfect peace lies deep within m

JJolted wide awake, the sleepers
Jumped and turned to guilty weepers.
Jaws of darkness caught them cold,
Just as they had been foretold.
Jaded souls, O see the cross,
Joy is here amidst the loss.
Jesus Christ, for us He died,
Justice then was satisfied.

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Memento Mori in a Refrain

by *Parsat, Jan 8, 2013, 11:50:34 PM
Literature / Poetry / Horror / Traditional Fixed Forms

No matter what delusions you intend—
What clever turns of phrase, what tongue-in-cheek,
What forms you've rendered lithe and sleek—
I'll always come to usher in the end.
Now call upon your muse, on her attend,
And try to reach and grasp her phantom hands.
Despite your invocations and demands,
I'll always come to usher in the end.
But do not think in death you might transcend
The order you conceived and brought to term.
Just as the germ attacks the flesh infirm,
I'll always come to usher in the end.
No matter what delusions you intend,
I'll always come to usher in the end.

Memento Mori in a Refrainby *Parsat

Literature / Poetry / Horror / Traditional Fixed Forms

An echo sonnet. Basically a Shakespearean sonnet, but with two refrain lines in it. A bit of a twist on the use of refrains in poetry.

The Artist has requested Critique on this Artwork

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~AriadeMezzoCarattere Feb 1, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

This is fantastic. And it... just... works. It makes sense and has excellent sound. It's terribly dire and fun all at once because the canter simply tickles the ear. If I were more knowledgeable about these things my praise would find more expression, but as it stands, know that my intention is to say, "it rocks"

*Parsat Feb 2, 2013 Student Writer

Thanks!

*TheDorsai Jan 14, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I'll second that. Your work since the DFC ended has been really inspired.

~MozartsNemesis Jan 9, 2013

This is brilliant. I love the form..you really made it work. I really can't find a bad thing to say about it. I like the echo especially.. it adds dimension to the overall effect.

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Memento Mori in a Refrainby *Parsat

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