Just another manic tuesday

. I am usually not a dark poet, but I’ve been reading a lot of Edgar Allan Poe stuff lately, so maybe that inspired me. Anyhow I guess this piece is short and dark, something different for me.

Cunning smiles and wicked eyes, they chase me down like werewolf cries.

In my dreams, in my heart I see my nightmares come alive

Darker than the imagination of Poe, a vivacious dead rose.

Dry petals, worn pages, the stories of the past,

Turn themselves into ancient tales that chase the clueless mind.

Leaving only hints of shadows, bloody footprints upon my heart,

I trace them with my curious eyes but scream with fear when I realize,

There is a bloody murder, a body half alive trembling before my breathing eyes.

I ask myself where is my mind lost?

Why do I see such horrific scenes?

Am I a monster, a wicked thief that sees darkness at daylight?

Or am I just human for finding death in life.

Author's Note

I usually tend to write a lot more soulful and poetic types of poetry, but for some odd reason I was I began to write more of a horror poem. This is actually my first work on this website, and I am not sure what it says about me, but I guess everything has a deeper meaning to it- more than we can all imagine. Nobody knows your tale like you do (pretty cliché).

Reviews

[L'Enfant Terrible]

I like it, is descriptive as long as it has to, which is good because it can let me figure the rest and setting the horror scene quite well.

[Michael.]

Sounds like a song old school Greenday style. xDDD

[Michael Jarrell]

This reminds me of Michael Jacksons thriller. Love it. =]