HADES

Grim Reaper…

Listen…DEATH is dialogue to your soul…

Your hearts beating its last trumpets, your lips are growing cold…

Concave chest, feeling the release of it’s final breath…

Squirming as it is not light you see, it is I your harvester, the cutter, one who possesses the Austere the very cold minerals that made the clay into Adam & Rib given to Eve…

Desolated with your last fears of burning, a Dismal sense of prison, tormented by your own anguish, the Dour of your sullen gloom is that Darkness is coming for you….

Abstemiously fill with souls, calling them to their final misery, screaming out, crying out, no one can hear you, or feel your presence any longer, though I have collected many as my Realm remains HADES…

Know this I am the real incarnate, who takes life, DEATH is I, the Grim Reaper…


HELL…

I pray that you've lived a life of sin
And repentance was an allergy
Never getting close enough to touch your skin
Fore guess your next destination when Grim is done
Tartarus....and its hot here son
No air condition
Your worst fear
The worst pain
Over and over
Gnawing at your flesh
Them Hell hounds devour you
Until there's nothing left
Then we rewind and do it all over again
Death ain't fun, at least not if you can't choose
Especially if the consequences of your actions leads me to you
Fires burn, and your tossed upon the flames
Becoming forgotten souls
With forgotten names
While your going through your ordeal
Please remember, I am not to blame
Your deeds up to this point has decided your fate
Once you enter my dominion
That time for prayer is too late
The situation your in
These decisions where made and your mind was sound
Resting in your mistakes
Its time for me to do my job, only God can save you now

Lazarus…

In 1738 I was dead and buried in the desert sands of ancient Jerusalem
Brought back to life after death when my last words were read in poem off of my tombstone

Breathed in the dry night air of the Judean into these black cracked lungs
Broken ribs reconstructed one by one

Hair of wool and skin like bronze Nazareth bare witness to the walking poetic deity

Lazarus

Left bare footprints of Blood ink from a dead poet’s pen drained like writers blocked dehydration

Fallen angels from a dark army will meet with the three sinister Wise men

The Grim Reaper snatching lost souls of novice pens written scriptures now condemned
Banished to the underworld Citadel to Erebus is just the beginning on the highway to Hell 

Never to resurface again

Mysterious inconceivable scribbling found in the forbidden book of unforgiven sins
True believers know like lyrical Jehovah witnesses

Reviews

[Samantha ~virginpoet]

wow amazing I really liked this