[x]

GhostsHere in this garden made of bone
Is found an old decaying stone
The angel that weeps over her dead
A name so old it can barely be read
And the church bells sound so very near
Just as they did that long ago year
Like the morbid wail of ancient ghosts
Their ring, ring, ringing has a sound so morose
I slowly walk with a single rose in hand
Across this hallowed little piece of land
I will lay the flower upon that grave
Knowing how hard my sorrow will be to stave
My love lies there below the ground
For a century now could he be there found
An anniversary of his death I will never miss
For after all these years I still long for his

The Devil and IThe fiddle is not an instrument I can play,
But I still bet the Devil my soul today.
He appeared before me as I sat at my desk,
A demon with red eyes and a face so grotesque.
He wanted to see who could weave the darker tale,
And said he'd take my soul to Hell if I should fail.
I took his bet with an odd sort of glee,
For there is no one that has a muse darker than me.
Then that old Devil pulled a pen from behind his ear,
Leered at me, laughing as though I had something to fear.
His ink ran red as blood as he wrote,
And I couldn't hide the chuckle that rose up in my throat.
He told of the things he knew best, the depths of his H

Temptation- Thirty-Nine NightsThirty-nine nights I've stayed awake,
Sin and temptation I can't forsake;
My soul cries to the sky for release,
Another hour feels too much to take.

My eyes stay open in a hope to appease,
Praying for an end, I fall on my knees.
The sky but echoes my calls for aid,
Death may come before I rest at ease.

Thirst and hunger haunt my shade,
My neck lies below the devil's blade;
Just one stroke and my will shall break,
Somebody save me, for I am afraid.

Fortune passed me to leave pain in its wake;
My path is uncertain, my fate opaque.
Another hour feels too much to take,
Thirty-nine nights I've stayed awake.

how she became a monster[start]

clementine-lipped, pelican-
eyed; she wants
fervently

wears regret
like satin and crème,
like driftwood draping
off shoulders.

[transition]

her melancholy tastes
of cigarettes and charcoal.
"both beautiful," she
thinks but no one
is there, her
mind is
empty and
moonstruck—
a blank canvas
masquerading as
a mussel. waiting.

just like her heart.

the boy, though,
doesn't care for the
taste of saline; he
wants pearls
but she's
only a clam
and so he leaves
and so she becomes
something else, because
even clams need
something
to love.

[end]

people live two by two,
but monsters
don't.

She Is...Her thoughts are whirling, winding,
Madness slowly, steadily, swirling.

She is a ragdoll with a face of porcelain white,
Has a little bowtie smile so contrite.
She doesn't care for the monster under the bed,
Prefers the one hiding in the closet instead.

She is a writer without ink and quill,
Her creativity is quite the bittersweet pill.
She writes in blood upon her own skin,
Trying to appease the demons within.

She is a queen with thorns in her crown,
Cobwebs hide in the folds of her gown.
She has plastic rings on each of her fingers,
Past grandeur and beauty only faintly lingers.

She is a corpse without a crypt,
Lived a life

The Night CriesThe moon bleeds,
the stars lie,
She sings,
the night cries.

Her last day,
the tree trunk sighs,
the wind blows,
the night cries.

She cant take it,
she tries and tries,
the darkness wins,
the night cries.

Greying clouds,
teardrops of night,
cleansing her sins,
with all their might.

Her pain was buried,
then dug up again,
she's never as lonley,
as when the night is her freind.

Her heart stops beating,
and then she died,
all was silent,
until the night cried.

Watching SunshineMorning whispers blossom
by a dandelion television.
Wild petals dance about her face;
a still song that could not leave
with the night

beneath dawn's shell.
Weeds die between breaths:
she calls small tears and
investigates early laughs
with blooming smiles.

Every sleep after
could stand like a child
in a field full of dawn,
while sun-rise cicadas
are born innocent and safe

flowers in this moonlight garden
that melt commercial ice
into golden drops which
spring through each new journey.

Always she listens
to the autumnal howls
which trickle out,
and shores them before the thunder–

I no longer wande

Into The UniverseAs the dawn tears away graciously,
Restless souls linger in shadows, trembling
Whispering, are we forgotten?

Wind's gray fingers caress their lips,
That billows upon the cracked shell of their souls,
Plastered with broken shards, of memories,
Memories that cut like vicious scythes

Their eyes veiled with love,
Their hearts enmeshed, bleeding with pain
Eyes bleached with crumbling dust
Of the shattered promises given yesterday

As the sky plunges from its perch
To embrace these lost souls,
With glorious precision it burns,
The shriveled memories into ash and dust

Memories of forgotten love burn,
Melting into harmless scars, pri

Terminally TrappedMy long nails carve patterns into cold frosted glass,
As I sit upon this tomb trimmed in gossamer and brass.
The rain is falling outside in dreadful sheets,
Drenching the rats that scuttle through the dark streets.
I wandered their alleys once but found none I could trust,
And now we look upon each other with some mutual disgust.
The world through my window is cold, tired and cruel.
Many of those rats say I'm crazy, but I'm no fool.
I've seen a man drive a dagger into his lover's heart,
Lust and jealously that tears brothers apart.
I've seen a monster lurk behind a red painted smile,
Disease that spoils a beautiful country mile.

Hide and Seek.Sometimes I wish
That we could stumble upon each other,
Find ourselves
Alone in a crowd.

We could have something
Beautiful,
Like rain falling during
Sunshine.

You could be my hero,
And it'd be like we were kids again.
We could sit on some rooftops,
And chatter mindlessly amongst ourselves.

We could play hide and seek.
Vow to never grow up...
And you would still be here with me.
And maybe I wouldn't be sitting alone beneath this tree,
Waiting anxiously

For you to come and find me.

Morning Song

I feel your longing tender gaze,
And stir from dreams contented haze.

Questions unspoken, yet gently mentioned.
A touch, a kiss--your loves intention.

The lips that linger on my skin.
The heart that ever lets me in.

A ray of light that shines your face,
Does pause to hold my gaze in place.

Your eyes like pools of tenderness,
That sweetly slake my souls caress.

The scent of loves unbridled heat.
We come together, now we meet.

Our fierce embrace, our souls afire;
Longing gone with heart's desire.

Random bursts escape your lips,
As lightening leaves my fingertips.

Where once was lost, now all is found.
Exploding hearts have come

I lost my will to liveI lost my will to live
Which made my regrets grow
Fighting with my soul
It is myself, I know

I forgot how it is to love
Since it is such a long time ago
My soul is only filled with hate
And I don't know which way to go

My pain growing, my heart shrinking
I feel like a shadow
People see, but don't notice me
I'm alone and feel so hollow

I don't want to live this life
Alone, with hate and sorrow
A life full of regret and crying
Seeing how my tears fall like snow

UntitledThe seagulls spiralled down like a morphine drip
as you dragged me into the blindspot
behind the veil of concrete.
I forced a smile and pulled away
from your needling hips
your goading arms.
But you spun me back into your darkness
and threw me down on the breakwater mattress
and welded your salt-encrusted lips to mine.
Pebbles made my bare back latticework
and I struggled to breathe through the whirlwind of sand,
the pressure of your stomach,
your mouth like a leech
-drinking in the kiss-
and laughing mirthlessly through the tearducts in your lips.
Your eyes screamed siren song
and your mouth spun loaded pistols in your dim

Is it Too Late to Change?Little miss snowflake,
So pure and so white in my eyes
How I wish I could be like you
Leave everything behind like you do
Kiss it all goodbye and start anew
But I guess I'm just too weak for that.

Little miss Mary,
The virgin since the start
Keep up those pure-minded thoughts
Hold onto 'em like they're all you've got
I wish I could be like you, be free of this rot
But that's just not the way I was taught.

I guess what I'm trying to say here
Is that I turned out the way I turned out
I guess what I'm trying to say here
Is that I'm the one guy I could live without

Hey you, Mister Fix-it,
You always knew the right words
How I wi

Beautiful MessThere's a genius, who lives next door to me.
They told me stay away.
That his mind was as mad as any mental patient,
yet free he roamed, because of his social significance.

"Social?" Someone scoffed, "He could never earn a friend."

"Significance?" Another rolled his eyes, "What good does insanity bring to our world?"

Have you ever felt the tug that comes from something you're not supposed to touch?
As if not being able to have it, only makes you want it more.

I visited him that night.

Mathematical formulas lined his walls in permanent marker,
as liberally as dishes lined his counters.
I wondered if his mind was as messy as the worl

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Dear Lady

by ~MacabreVampire, Jul 13, 2010, 8:48:46 PM
Literature / Poetry / Horror / Traditional Fixed Forms

She spends her time ballroom dancing with the dead,
And there isn't a dark tale she hasn't yet read.
She likes black dresses trimmed in matching lace,
Carries herself with a ghoulish sort of dainty grace.
She says that sad songs are what feed her soul,
While cemeteries are her favorite places to take a stroll.
You can see madness when you look in her eyes,
Perhaps even the spectre of your own demise.
And there is something so very odd about her kiss,
A feeling like some writhing thing come from a dark abyss.
An affection so beautiful yet so dark and so strange,
That with every touch I feel my mind derange.
It is true that I love her quite dearly,
But it's frightening that she knows death so clearly.
For sometimes when we lay side by side
To linger and laugh and let our souls collide,
I can feel my hold on reality beginning to waive
And I know she'll be the one to take me to my grave.