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A phantom beauty sheathed within a gown of utter darkness, Stalks the lonely avenues of Los Angeles, seeking in vengeances Revenge for her murder to bring him unto justice’s final damnation! On the corner of thirty-Ninth Street she pauses, in reverence for The mangled corpus sliced in half, and posed in displays erotic Subjective stance for the gawking voyeurs to view, in pleasures Disguised! Oh sweet mistress of the tragic, weeping with the bloodless tears Of deaths draining futility, again she begins the walk of the tormented Beast, the black Dahlia of mysteries suspense, trailing in the dark, Within her silken shroud of her burial gown, crying outwardly For mercy’s salvation, yet it is only the dead silence of the Wintery breeze that answers in the stillness! The burnt amber leaves of autumn, are crushed beneath the Heavy feet, of a she ghost screaming within the nights empty Hallows, beckoning unto the lord above, to return her life Essence that was stolen by a slayers sharpened blade of Degradation and mutilation, why the howling banshee Yells, why what was my crime, to be tormented so! The newspapers deadlines read, the Black Dahlia, was Chopped, hacked in half in the middle, scrubbed by her Assassin killer, whom slashed her chicks into a jokers Grimly smile! But this ebony dame, with the eyes of graying death, Strides within the ethereal limbo between heaven and Hell, begging for the after life’s illumination to set her Free, from the netting of betrayals unjustified torment! A figure of distinction, heckles in the black abyss beyond, This fine gentleman birthed within the household of the Elect, tact’s another trophies photo upon his wall of Glories victims, she the women known as Elizabeth Short, The black Dahlia! Within this doctors black leather bag, lies secrets never spoken Of in the light of day, clean are his instruments shimmery to the shine, These slashers sharpened slicers cutting without mercy’s discrimination Of depths degree, to please this serial killing physician of death! Within the house holds of the elect and wealthy, a gentleman Chameleon hides, protected by the birth rights of the cultured Upper class, no one suspects this learned man of any wrongs doing, The perfect cover, to stand right out in the open acquiescing others, Of the bloody deeds his done! Within the vaults of deception, on the high hills of rich and famous, A demonic doctor of death, waits in the shadows for an unsuspecting Victim to stride within his butchering claws of death, and the black Dahlia searches for him, seething with vengeances fury! BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

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Date: 9/28/2015 11:35:00 PM
I have a poem, about the Black Dahlia.... You did a wonderful job here. Thank you for making me creep all over again. I'm so into your poetry. Cherl, you are the Queen Of Halloween Poems plus more... Good night my friend... LINDA
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Date: 9/28/2015 10:12:00 AM
OMG this was spine chilling to say the least.Such rich and disturbing descriptions of a tormented lady who seeks vengeance out there in the open is a classy depiction of a cult classic.Brilliantly well done.
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Date: 9/27/2015 2:03:00 PM
Wow, Cheri...I didn't know this story, but you wrote it in such a riveting way. You had me from start to finish. What a shame that anyone could take life and in such a grotesque way. Great write. Thanks ever so much for your visit to my Sadness poem. You wrote such uplifting words. Bless you, dear.
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Date: 9/27/2015 12:52:00 PM
WICKEDLY DARK AND DEEP DECEPTION. Such as in real life , hidden dark deeds and willing blind eyes turned. Great poem my friend. Makes one think. A7
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