PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Half alive and mostly dead the dreams of those torn thread so many fucked up, so many rude howmany torn dreams there be. A life now shatters all hopes dashed the lifeless body turned to hash. Feed they self on ~f'd~ up dreams, life is not as it seems, throw thy self down torn asunder by the loud clap of thunder. knowing not where to hide can you save your own.

It stalks you with out spite or malice. It can guide you to your end and wait for you till then, brokened dreams and dancing damned all those deamed men in a can look upon your fate today and know it will go that way



Lost and hungery wanting food, the darkest sould, that of no good, purest evel as it should, take the form of youngest face, something tender full of grace, a cold and cruel heart with out place a childs eye devout of love desending on pray from above like some unholy blackened dove. Soulless child of the night comeing to you from out of sight bringing terror and a fright, killing shamelessly until the morning bell the air doth fill sending back into the till that which nother shall live and see, that darkness in you and me that night forever in us be. that soulless motherless child



Prowling night away from light, without thought or care. Drinking deeply of your life then vanishing to air. Unholy ghost you see thee now, cower run in fear. Know only that what it is, as pure evil draws near