Dark Poetry ~ Hallowed Ground

The blood and pain,
trickles down thighs,
of worn cardboard.

After extinguished fireworks.
All this hallowed ground.
Just finished yet another eternity.

I am alive!
Am I dead inside?

Was there a bullet through my head?
Just fear of life?

Hindered and hoping.

Will I survive,
imminent descent,
toward ground below.

Does the time draw nigh,
for not even death releases fear.

Just a body finally alive,
frigid and faceless.

Only waiting to be buried.

Dark Poem ~ Halls of the Temple

The halls of this temple,
they look so bleak.

The people they are taken in,
they are so meek.

The music that resides here,
its rhythm and its rhyme.

It ensnares,
enfolds,
enslaves,
and transforms,
not by sound waves.

An existence of no liberty.
While seeing they are only led.

A flock,
led to a sordid trough.

Fed.

Living for souls,
only shells,
useless once dead.

Dark Poem ~ Thy Jaded Eyes

I, tangled mess,
unraveled,
disheveled.

Where is my ending?

Where did I begin?

Life old-fashioned components,
self-serving patterns.

I did not like,
what I had become.

But my strings came undone,
more each day.

The stench of humanity,
deformed me.

I, delightfully ragged!

As I go,
I see,
my jaded eyes,
needed washing dirty…

Filth, a cleaning solution.

Get them,
out of my body,
out of my eyes,
out of my soul!

Dark Poetry ~ Gone Away

One sliver of insanity,
reigns supreme.

A world alert,
so it would seem.

After all is gone and said.

Who or what,
will keep you,
holding on?

Time has gone away.
Dawn has struck its day.

When will you,
find time to play?

After time,
has left and gone away?

Dark Poetry ~ To Each Their Own

To each their own,
in life and in death.

Countless spiderous paths,
in each garden,
of infinite decisions.

Variable.

To each their own,
in life and in death.

But may they choose wisely,
the ones who follow alongside,
so they do not,
piss upon,
roads ahead uncertain.

Dark Poem ~ The Valley of the Mind

The valley of the mind,
withered;
chaotic…

Static charge flows,
as I walk through,
uneven uncertain surfaces.

Riddled with the craters,
of thoughts,
and teetering sanity.

Once rich and fulfilling…

New ideas molding,
every crevice,
of this valley.

Held down,
by foolish safeguards.

Mechanisms,
folded deep within,
mind’s enigmatic matter.

Outdated witticisms,
coupled with molded,
moralities.

Reaching to the molten core,
of once pristine prism…

Hard contours full,
of redundant retardations,
of creativities.

Which are the past.

Supple and prolific.

Weeping willows abound.

Their tears,
clogging streams.

Formerly brilliant and clear.

Going down; defiling filth.

The stench of purity,
heart, and spirit.

Seething sexuality,
stifled by the oppressors.

A constant conflict of the masses.

The valley of the mind,
at war with,
the heart of the lamb.

Seeing mind controlled,
by the wasted dirt,
that is this world.

Observe its hills,
its boulders,
its ditches,
and its peaks.

Every crevice…

Filled with the mortar of untruth.

An adhesive with caustic properties,
purpose of detriment.

Sabotaging the spirit,
of valley rarely traveled.

But I must depart quickly!

Before it infests,
with its rot,
its filth,
its plague!

Too many unthought communications,
unthinkable.

Easily communicable,
herd mind mentality disease,
through contact.

Valley surface,
lays barren with doubt.

An ever present self loathing,
of who they believe…

We are supposed to be.

Dark Poetry ~ Demons Cry Sleeping

Fragments of my soul,
gone forth without me.

Crucial parts,
of existence gone.

Holding memories void,
grinds my heart.

Pestle to mortar,
scratching this bitch.

Form changes,
but integrity, never.

The already reunion,
by so close separation.

Dreaming and maintaining,
obscuring and losing.

Rationality.

But near are these,
thoughts of doom.

So little effect…

Explosive eyes.
Kaleidoscope cries.

My demons cry sleeping.

Tamed no more.
Angry and sore.

Longing to,
break the chains.

To feel alive.

To rip free,
of collar once more.

To believe in days unseen.
To survive.

If only,
to avenge,
the capture.

Dark Poetry ~ Nightmare Fantasy

I, your dreams,
a nightmare fantasy.

I, the thing,
that makes you bleed.

Trapped in nightmare,
of the so called happy world.

Hand cuffed to lies,
of Heaven and of Hell.

Sin in the cathedral,
of swine.

Wooden goblet. Carpenters cross.

Burning the wood,
tossed in the line of fire survival.

Thin bolts of white fabric,
frocked in stained sheets.

Forgiven of misgivings,
Wave bye now…

Just words: I am forgiven!

Ribbon of purple, ribbons of gold…

Restless merriment,
subdued by frantic whiners.

No more bowing,
because to you,
everyone is a sinner.

Dark Poem ~ The Sorrows of Skin

Walking to the edge of tomorrow.
Looking to forever yesterday.
Seeing a place inside life.
Where all is nothingness.

Never exist in tomorrow,
last Wednesday.

Falling to pieces,
the sorrows of skin.

Calloused.
Crumbled.
Cried.

Take little comfort,
in places of silence.

Run! Must run!

Hear the thunder of heavy machinery.

In. My. Head.

A heart heavy,
silenced by clamor and commotion.

Growing older is inevitable.
Growing up should be challenged.

At. Every. Step.

I walk through the valleys.
I look to the summits.

I wonder.

Why do they tell me to follow the herd?

Moo.
Moo.

No!

Dark Poetry ~ Your Happiness

Tracing your pain.

Locating the entrance,
to your scars.

Ripping this burdensome nettle,
from your eye.

Drain the pains,
from your veins
Only memories remain.

Hold hands,
pulling through,
spike-laden spirit pit.

Mind unraveling.

This. Is. What I do.

I am control.

Grasping, tightly.
Making certain to rip lives.

I, the needle in your veins.

Injected,
I need your pains.

Do not push away.

I do NOT approve.

Of your happiness,
without my permission.