From Beneath the Mist

Thunder maw
and shaking hands.
sheltered branches
and moonlit night
over mid-night strolls.

Sky-ward howl;
the mist pulls in
and dark strikes out.

Beneath silver entity,
the blush drains out
upon the leaves,
beneath the mist.

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The Legend Part I: Reborn

The Legend

Born with a powerful destiny,
Only to destroy those wrong,
Many times to come fighting,
War at my feet and soul along,

Gathering that strength through,
My awaken blood so hot but cold,
Skin rotting but alive inside,
Fear me you will it will be told,

Stories frighten thy heart,
Reaching for that step,
Whispers hidden deep in the dark,
Regret shall what had left,

Wait till my next move,
Fire and water turn red,
Get ready for that move,
Come shall my birth to what said..

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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Stalk me eternally

Here as I sit 
I feel your eyes watching me
I turn my cheek and you're looking at me
Class ends as I watch you stand when I do
Racing me to the door 
you push, rush to get through 
Next class I won't see you
I'm sure you think of me too 
My boyfriend kisses my face 
Stalker kid watch me as I embrace 

Home I lay, enjoy my music
You're obsessed, your souls sick 
Drawing my name into your arm 
Open wound you're hurt inside 
Stalker kid, wish you could charm
Your dreams are a wild ride
Longing for me but can't you see
You and I could never be 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A little something I came up with . Inspiration from a creepy kid. [: thank you creepy kid.

Halloween Monster

It was the worst thing that I've ever seen.
It happened in my town last Halloween.
A horrible monster attacked and it was undead.
It disembowled people and bit off their heads.

It made Michael Myers look like the Pope.
If you're wondering if it was easily destroyed, the answer is nope.
It killed four hundred people, including every cop.
I knew that this freak of nature had to be stopped.

It didn't hurt that thing when I drove a stake through its heart.
But it did destroy it when I used a bazooka to blow it apart.
Nothing can bring back those four hundred unfortunate women and men.
But people can rest easy because they'll never see that foul monster again.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem.

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Something horrible happened seven years ago.
My town was terrorized by my evil scarecrow.
My scarecrow was the victim of a witch's curse.
It took me over a year to get the spell reversed.

My scarecrow ate all of the crows in my crops.
My scarecrow was blood thirsty and didn't stop.
It started killing people, it even bit off my father's head.
My dad stumbled around for a minute and fell over dead.

People shot it and used flamethrowers but it wasn't even phased.
It killed three hundred people during its blood thirsty craze.
I stopped it with a passage that I found in a voodoo book.
I spoke the incantation and that was all it took.

It was great when I stopped it in its tracks.
But the victims it killed can't be brought back.
If you have a scarecrow, you'd better stay awake.
While you sleep, you may be the first victim that it takes.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem.

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I committed hit and run

I hit a child with my truck while he was riding his bike.
Unless you've experienced this, you don't know what it's like.
I should've got him some help but instead I hit the accelerator.
The severity of what I did didn't sink in until several hours later.
Sadly that poor boy died later that day.
The guilt has haunted me since he passed away.
I cut that boy down who was as precious as a flower.
I committed hit and run and that makes me a coward.
His family is suffering because of what I've put them through.
I hope and pray that this experience never happens to you.
I know that I'm doomed to pay for my horrible sin.
I can't bring that boy back but I can turn myself in.
What I did was horrific, I had a lot of nerve.
Now I'll rot in jail and that's what I deserve.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem.

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Suicide in Wal-mart

A man went in Wal-mart  and committed suicide.
The poor people who saw this must be traumatized.
Suicide is wrong but it's even worse to do it in a public place.
He probably did it because he had problems that he couldn't face.

I wish that man hadn't committed suicide.
He wanted a lot of people to watch as he died.
The reason why that man shot himself is unknown.
But those people wouldn't be traumatized if he had done it when he was alone.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a true story that happened in Morristown,Tennessee.

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You pulled a gun on a boy

You did something that was evil and mean.
You pulled a gun on a boy on Halloween.
Taking a kid's candy at gunpoint was a cruel thing to do.
If there is a man who should be hated by people, it is you.

When you threatened that poor boy, you probably scared him out his wits.
Picking on that child was cowardly and that makes you a chicken shit.
You threatened someone who was defenseless, you have a lot of nerve!
Now you'll be in jail for a long time and that's exactly what you deserve.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Sadly this is a true story.

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The line of bodies whirling around the hill. Each face painted with a mask of fear, each limb tied up with the rope of cruelty!

Waiting, so gently waiting…

Far ahead, the red tongue of the glowing fire licks the arch of the fatal door!
The owl of the wind carries the ashes, grey misty rain falling over their ghostly frames. Breathing before expiring the dust of their Sybil!
Every second, getting closer to the demons!

The line of bodies whirling around the hill, are cover with thick shadows.
The divine aura somehow, cannot pierce through the warm ashen clouds…
Sometime, the cry of a child stabbed the everlasting night and tears drop, brief sadness, filling their shaky being with a touch of peace…
Soon, to be murder again by terror!

Waiting ever so softly…Agnus Dei

Agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
Dona eis requiem

Libera me, domine, de morta aeterna
In die illa trementa.

Lamb of God, who takest away the world` s sins, grant them rest.
Deliver me, o lord, from eternal death in that awful day.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

part 2 of a poem about War 2 and Hilthler.

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