Have you ever walked by a derelict sleeping in a doorway???....I have often wondered what path led them to be in that doorway...how madness could so destroy them.......Here is one man's explanation!
I hope you enjoy
The Beguiled
She asked a question of me, it reverberates in my head---she asked me if I’m happy, if I’d be happier when I’m dead. I find myself now thinking, of the choices I have made---pretty sure my soul is damned, surely that is better left unsaid.
Dark thoughts spawn uneasiness, birthplace of my dread---perhaps I should consider, what occurs when we are dead. If only death would bring surcease, deliver me from pain---no longer seeking evil pleasures, bring me innocence once again. Such thoughts as these accompany me, tonight's journey has no ending---no solace for my tortured soul, I am trapped within this foul intending. Knowledge gained so long ago, demands that I fulfill---fell obligations to this power, seeking someone's dreams to kill.
Majik surging deep inside me, causing my obscene erection---desperate to complete my task, no time now for such introspection. Sounds of gnashing teeth assail me, at my entry to the shrine---acolytes of Satan's promise, on the floor their limbs entwined. And there upon the ornate altar, writhing to the ancient chanting---nameless woman gestures to me, unsurprised I find I'm panting. Which daemon is it now constrained, within my human form---who takes this willing offering, that the world can be transformed?
How many times, how many places---how many women beckoning---I can’t remember all their faces. This daemon that’s inside of me, fulfills his ritual mating---which writhing member’s dream’s fulfilled, which lusts were consummated? I think I have an answer now, to my daughter’s question---an answer now so long forgotten, a matter tied to indiscretion. Some of our youthful choices, often glibly made in haste---can grow to such proportions; they can lay our lives to waste.
I implore you gentle listener, please take these words to heart... Power gained from others' suffering, has no wisdom to impart!
I was looking through some older stuff, and this caught my eye...Hope you enjoy!
Neophyte
Incautious neophyte, wandering aimlessly---exploring borders, questing shamelessly... For secrets hidden, from mortal awareness---her innocence making her, unforgivably careless. Stumbling upon sour earth---foul pregnant entity giving birth... To one whose awful name inspires---malignant dreams, demented mortal desires.
Birth signifying, death of dreams---beauty forever lost, birth-mother screams... Writhing and moaning, changeling clawing inside her...birthblood jetting, pooling beside her. Into our plane, nightmare born again---neophyte aghast, driven nearly insane. Grotesque incarnation, seems to be grinning---gazing coldly at mother, dreaming of sinning.
Backing away, neophyte desperately striving---for surcease, from the image of this changeling arriving. Frantic noises,unkowingly spoken---bowels voiding in horror, darkest dread still unspoken. Birth-mother grunts, changeling's foul actions resuming---suckling mother's teat, her life-force consuming. Sated for now, changling casually disdains---this dried husk once his mother, all that remains.
Inching carefully away, elders must be advised---foul abomination lives, birthed before her eyes. This thought paramount, neophyte swiftly fleeing---away from this abattoir, her wide eyes unseeing. Distance desired, from this unthinkable depredation---away from cruel changling, seeking salvation. Stinking breath on her neck, suddenly discerned---claws severing flesh, somehow unconcerned... Curiously calm, she finds herself on the ground---desperate screams go unheeded, for there's no one around.
Changling capers in glee, such despicable carnage arouses... Thoughts of succulent mortals, asleep in their houses.
Here is the newest….I am afraid it comes from the dark side, lol…..Not for the young or faint-hearted…..I hope you enjoy!
Desperation
Swirling cloud of desperation, sweeps across her soul---this awful lonliness, such desolation...too awful to behold. Never in her reckoning, not once in all these years---has truth been so unkind to her, she sheds another bitter tear. Daughter of such perfect darkness, using others' fears---existing on the fringes, broken hearts...her souveniers. Who is this pagan stranger, allowed access to her world---a cunning beast inside of her, cruel daemon from the nether-world?
Looking in the mirror, is that a blemish she discerns---another fucking disappointment, to add to her concerns? Groaning from the other room, interrupts such ruminations---sounds as if he's stirring there, aware now...of her desperation. That strutting bytch aggravated her, grated on her nerves---he will watch that bytch's suffering, no less than he deserves. Rueful smile parts her lips, craving carnal satisfaction---retribution gained this night, will end that bytch's...two-faced actions.
Weeping from the corner, excites her rising passion---pathetic bytch cowers on the floor, begging for...her kind compassion. She glances at the pair of them, what did they think she'd do---"Am I someone to trifle with, someone to be abused?" Squatting down beside the bytch, making sure that he can see---she displays the razor in her hand...her desire now set free. Screaming echoes in her ears, as she sets about her chore---deftly she removes the nose, she just can't stand this whore! Rising slowly she turns to him, showing him her prize---"will you still desire her, find pleasure 'tween her parted thighs?"
As she leaves, she glances backwards...at her mother's other daughter... Bleeding freely, that awful wound...ensures her sister won't defy her.
Well, I finished the prequel to "Devil's Plaything".....remember that one??? Well here it is, "Cheyenne", I hope ya enjoy it!!
Oh and by the way, if my posting my work on yer comments is not agreeable with you, please let me know, and I wull no longer do so !!! (I am such a poetry slut...*sigh*)
Cheyenne
Abbey’s walls still surround her, hateful bells announce her plight---breathless dreams of elusive freedom, her quest for reunion begins tonight. Biding time ‘til she was older, vague memories haunt her sleeping---no more patience for separation, no more secret midnight weeping. Sacred glow…impending woman-hood, marks her lovely child-like face---something else there… not quite so pretty, the risk that it will take its place. Fiery eyes keen and probing, looking out ‘neath innocent’s brow---making even brave men cower, destiny’s promise now allowed.
Mother’s voice is silently calling, as she casually leaves this place---so easy her escape accomplished, reveling in freedom’s sweet embrace. Moon-glow offers welcome succor, as she finds herself alone---past forbidding darkened doorways, recalling memories of cheap cologne Wondering at this in-born majik, that which certainly guides her way---priceless gift so desperately given, when her mother gave her away? “Cheyenne”, her mother softly whispered, on that night so long ago---“remember always gentle daughter, my love is with you…though I must go.”
Music draws her to a window, magic portal through which she peers---graceful profile of her mother, easily distinguished through her tears. As she watches through the window, her mother’s gaze attracted---to the sight of two men struggling, terrible violence therein enacted. Such shock revealed in mother’s face, all animation drained---Cheyenne feels her awful sorrow, escaping through the window pane. Suddenly, the violent stranger, calls out her mother’s name---“Candida I shall have you always, for my rival now is slain!”
Cheyenne watches as Candida, accepts what she has seen---horror reflected in her eyes, her mother begins to scream. Groaning as she turns away, Cheyenne can bear no more---frantic in her movements now, she searches for the door. As she races ‘round the corner, she spies the entry way---rushing forward in her panic, her footsteps echo her dismay. Tragic figure exiting, as she finally gains the door---red light brightly shining there, confirms Candida is a whore.
A thousand answers flooding through her, without a single question posed…. She takes her mother’s hand in her’s, this chapter in their lives is closed.
Here is one I just finished today….Hope you enjoy !!!
Sacrifice
She feels so out of place here, eyes wide with disbelief---the death of tortured innocence, she hopes will bring relief. Capering forms around the blaze, seem slightly altered now---viscous quality to the air, passions' madness sought somehow. Were those really antlers, she discerned upon the head---of the friend who had invited her, to this celebration of the dead? Or just a trick of firelight, she refuses to believe---shifting images all around her, alterations impossible to conceive.
A wildness creeps inside of her, blood screaming through her veins---warm desire begs fulfillment, sweet release...what she will gain. Delighted keening fills her ears, hooded figure upon the dais---those around her yammering, as they chant their ancient praise. The others seem to know their roles, what is her purpose here---a sheen of sour perspiration, lubricates her dawning fear. Her gaze drawn to the figure, standing on the stage---she notices just how large he is, she discerns his awful rage.
As if her legs possess, no volition of their own---she finds herself approaching him, her features cast in stone. Hands reach out to touch her, as she journeys to her doom---perceiving her role with clarity now, demi-god to be her groom. Unconsciously her hands attempt, to smooth her raiment down---for after all the clothes she wears, will be her wedding gown. At last she ceases walking, arriving by his side---a brief triumphant smile, reveals the courage she found inside.
Startled gasp escapes her lips, as she looks into his eyes---depth of his evil revealed to her, somehow she's not surprised... To feel her precious organs, spilling out upon the floor---the questions she wished answers to, are not important anymore.
Here is a poem I wrote for a friend of mine here at DR . A bit of a departure for me, I hope you enjoy !
Devil's Plaything
Dark brothel beckons silently, within the old French Quarter---'twas there so many years ago, there that I thought...to court her. Her eyes ablaze from absinthe, young lovely body swaying---caring not what patrons claimed, never heeding what they were saying. My heart took flight within my breast, each time I caught a glance---of my dark compelling plaything, each time I stood entranced. Losing moments to love's opium, such a drug she proved to be---my soul cried out for sweet release, she was everything to me.
Those days they seldom visit me, fevered imaginings from the past---I remember still that evening, the night I saw her last. Adorned in silk so lustrous, perfume echoing in my head---my rival vanquished at my feet, I knew then...that he was dead. Wielding scarlet claws she came at me, spitting venom in my face---Devil's Plaything...mine no longer...screaming, my affections were misplaced. I trapped her arms behind her, whispered frantically in her ear---told her we could be so happy, begged her not to disappear.
Many years now since I've seen her, since I thought to win her heart... Now all my fading memories center...around watching her depart.
Here is one I just finished---I anxiously await your opinion!!
Song Of Moloch
At the head of forty legions, feral eyes glance all about---spreading leathery wings to cool them, listening for the sentinel’s shout. Sulphurous odor doth proclaim him, tramp of hoof and heel denote---coming of this cold pale rider, oaths erupt from every throat. Unobserved in countless ages, dwelling in the bowels of hell---restless in his cruel confinement, no one still alive to tell… Of countless brutal cruel excesses, when last he roamed at will---infernal power never greater, foul stinking destiny to fulfill.
Distant shrieking from the sentinel, heralds arrival at the wall---ancient bastion lately weakened, whispering pathetic angels’ call… Striding forward as power fills him, groaning earth protests---such creatures as are found around him, fall senseless in their distress. Grunts escape defending angels, his presence is discerned---sickened looks upon their faces, this ancient one totally unconcerned. Runes casually written upon the air, timeless barrier is shaken---rotting dead within their graves, scream allegiance to this abomination.
Blinding light it emanates, from daemon’s outstretched hand---spelling death and desolation, across this promised land. Terror chases disbelief, across angelic faces---only death and desecration, to be found in daemon’s fell embraces. Solomon’s temple in disarray, lost corner-stone now reclaimed---forbidding wall is broken asunder, remaining angels horribly maimed. Subtle change is clearly felt, Moloch demands his due---as long ago was written, he demands your very soul from you.
Michael’s ring so carefully forged, bearing heaven’s hateful seal--- Found amongst the carnage, now destroyed beneath the daemon’s heel.
When a demon named Ornias harasses a young lad (who is favorite of Solomon) by stealing half his pay and sucking out his vitality through the lad's thumb, Solomon prays in the temple and receives from the archangel Michael a ring with a seal on it which will enable him to command the demons.....
Dread daughter of chaos, no physical flaws---appearing deceptively docile, sharpening ebony claws. Luxurious preparation, bathing in young-maidens' blood---stretching supernatural sinew, rejoicing in the flood... Of despicable emotions, accompanying odors as well---infernal mission paramount, engraved invitation to hell. Deceiving humanity, true image never displayed---carefully choosing her raiment, for tonight's masquerade.
Plans nearing fruition, letting her mind rush ahead---ceremony this evening, celebrating the soon-to-be dead. Monstrous teeth peeking, through succulent lips---debauched images overwhelm her, as her disguise briefly slips. Deep carnal moaning, down low in her throat---this corpse-bride is anxious, chance of escape is remote. Foolish priest murmurs, beloved standing beside her---later stealing his soul, as he thrusts desperately inside her.
Abandoning her musings, regaining total composure---musn't allow her excitement, to result in exposure. Impatiently waiting, for her bride's entourage---planning to wear her groom's heart, as a bloody corsage.
Thnx fer the add, Kirt...some prose fer yer page???
Solutions
Seeking majikal solutions, for this grief she feels inside—she finds her self on curs’ed ground, for her vanity cannot abide. Anger courses through her veins, she warned them did she not---tonight’s visit to this evil place, will teach them that…which they forgot! Placing tiny blood-stained offering, upon ancient altar stone—a shudder ripples through her---she finds that she is not alone. What creature walks these ruins tonight? To make her feel so small---the crones that she consulted, didn’t mention it at all.
Crouching in the shadows, weaving tapestries of doom---rubbing up against her lovely body, whispering…“death arriving soon.” Shifting countenance confuses her, images never before perceived---careless action now regretted, she feels she was deceived. No light invades her consciousness, evil continues to explore---forgotten corners of iniquity, values…shaken to their very core. Cruel Imp capers wickedly, through virgin halls of thought---such arrogance she exhibited, thinking power could be so cheaply bought.
Wrapping her cape about herself, insulation against the storm---steeling herself for what’s to come, she screams that she was mis-informed. Delighted with developments, wicked Imp invades her soul---clutching fingers grasping desperately, never again will she be whole. An awful ripping deep inside her, accompanied by her weeping---Imp’s dreadful laughter echoes, soul surrendered to the devil’s keeping. Infernal power flooding her, that for which she lusted---vaguely wondering why it is, she should feel so damn disgusted.
Fevered hunger grows inside of her, infernal bargain is complete---remembered reasons for her actions, cruel revenge will be so sweet. Torment for the pair of them, they dared to cause her pain---sour remembrance of humiliation when…she found them embracing once again.
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