As inky as a poetic muse
I burn both ends of the candle
Writing my poems
Righting my wrongs
Inner and outer demons exist
I kiss them both for kicks
demons lurk in shadows dark
hidden and furiously silent
their presence oozing at clairvoyants
soothsayer pauses in her reading to listen
juggling the genuineness and the risk of mistake
was this message from angels or demons?
she calls upon her ancestors for clarity
the message stops while the demons laugh
intimidated by her parentage, they disappear
He spoke of angels and demons,
Obsessed with supernatural beings and terrors.
In hopes to discover their wings and horns,
To know why angels have light,
and demons embody the dark.
Blinded by the urge to claim an angel's glorious heart,
He neglected the living and breathing,
And yearned for the warriors of heaven & protectors of hell.
I bared my divine soul—take it all, I told him.
His eyes crinkled in disgust.
My soul looked damaged, not fit for an angel,
And too clean for a demon.
He claimed I was neither,
He aimed for the soul of either.
My back, bruised from the weight of broken wings, ached.
My scalp, still sore from silver strands torn away, burned.
My eyes, now black and blue, leaked of tears—
They used to be gold.
The stranger dismissed me,
Off to enchant an angel, to steal their soul.
Why search for it, when I offer you mine for free?
We all
Got angels and demons
On our insides.
And ain't it nice
When the angels get out,
And we does good?
So easier to be proud.
Easier to be humble to.
Those demons, they wreck us;
You know it is true.
The Small Print of the Black Mass
To steal the power from the newly dead,
Through blackened magic where the demons tread,
You beckon the spirit from the darkest plane,
And feast on the flesh to assume its reign.
From the dirt of the grave, the monsters shout:
"Feed me! Feed me!" as the lights go out.
The flesh turns to liquid, it slithers right down,
To grant you the strength of a forbidden crown.
But a consumed spirit will fight to be free,
Unless you can bind it where no one can see.
So you drag the ghost to the deepest abyss,
And curse it with crimes in the dark's prejudice.
You lock it away in a chamber of screams,
To rot in the static of shattered dreams.
Yet the path to this knowledge is steep and unkind:
You must enter hell's back door and lock it behind.
You hide the key in a desolate place,
And pray that a righteous hand leaves no trace.
For the Book of Sin doesn't offer a lie
The small print catches the arrogant eye:
The contract is absolute, heavy, and cold,
A willing soul, and a payment in gold.
Or a pillar of salt you will turn.
The Guardian of Hell: A Sinner's Slumber
The obsidian tunnels of this godless realm,
Uncoil like serpents where I blindly tread.
A shadow stalks, a nightmare at the helm,
Feeding upon the frantic steps I dread.
What does he want, this shadow in the smoke?
My ankles drag the burning chains of hell.
He stands above me, draped in misery's cloak,
The brutal keeper of a silent cell.
For what unknown transgression do I weep?
I bear a crushing weight I cannot name.
The dark is suffocating, fierce, and deep,
A blind expanse of agony and shame.
Then through the vault, his iron voice commands:
"Halt, sinner, halt! And face my burning glare!"
The Lord of Ash before my terror stands,
And flings me down into the deep despair.
"Wake up!" he roars, "The pit has claimed its prize!
Confess your hidden crime into the night!
Shatter the silence, strip away the lies,
And only then shall you return to light!"
Too exact Revenge
I hold a strand of enemies’ hair.
I will carve my exact revenge.
Plant the root deep down Hell
For her to be punished and held captive
Where she can’t reach it
Watch her burn, watch her sweat,
Just like she did to me.
Light a candle, read prayer
Burn strand over candle
Leaving candle all night
Preferably 3 am to 4 am.
ps. if not got candle , just touch picture
To make a wish come true
Light a candle
Imagine walking up to the fort in the picture
Then make the wish.
Then your gift present for Marcus the Demon.
Showing your gratitude.
Ps. If you haven't got a candle , just touch picture
This is where Demons ascend from there realm.
Hidden away, I watched a demon Marcus cleanse his soul,
Midst sage and stone, the ritual took control.
A blessed prayer to purge the dark within,
To find a future free of ancient sin.
Cleansed and renewed by the candle's ray,
Marcus rose to face the coming day.
After thirty-three years of unexplained happenings in her house Gina was standing at her window in her flat. She saw a byzantine soldier run from her house. She was startled, he was running from her door, down the stairs and down into the street. She was confused. She could hear him “it’s done, its over” what did he mean by that. Confused she sat down and could see the hex print vanish from her hand and knew was it him that was marauding her all these years. But... it’s over now, he left or was it the beginning. She could hear see a shadow and voices all those years blaming her for petty things she had done as a child. She couldn’t explain, someone close had paid him in the dark to cause distress in her life for all these years. "Who could it be… he always said it was my sister, mom and dad", all three of them, some sort of revenge as they already were in the dark and had to pay rent to get out, but infighting started and there was no control over them. “It’s time to pay he always said…
Not the horned, the clawed, the fire-breathing kind.
Mine is a shadow that walks beside me,
a whisper against the wind,
a presence that chills the airwhen ill intent draws near.
He doesn't carry a sword,
but his gaze can stop a charging bull.
He doesn't forge chains,
but his silence binds fear.
He is the quiet thunderbefore the storm breaks,
the knowing smirkwhen a lie is spun.
He stands in the doorways I cannot see,
a sentinel of dusk and dawn.
He intercepts the whispersthat try to find my ear,
the subtle poison meant to sting.
He is the guardian of my dreams,
the one who fights the nightmaresbefore they even form.
He wears no uniform,
carries no banner.
His allegiance is etchedin the very bones of my existence,
a pact forged in the deep dark,
understood without a spoken word.
My demon protector,
my silent, watchful strength.
Sometimes the depression is my ruler, but I love
It means love. Life. The life. A demon. Old a time
A time. It’s a memory. Emotions of the past. Loved
Yes. All my feelings are memories, wished home
Live here, live now, live in this time. I am a stranger
I feel myself for an alien. Not for a human. A demon
I can’t find life in humanity, I come from my home
Hell, my original love. Oh, the land, the life there
It was nice. But my sins. My sins! My crimes!!
Yes. I am not clear. I am guilty. Forgive me, Satan!
“You are guilty.” Said Satan. “You must repent!”
“Am I guilty?!” I am only a demon. A forgotten
“Yes. Please, remember your demonic country,
the land, the castle, everything. All was my gift!”
“I am sorry, my dear Satan.”
“It’s not enough! You must live in the human world!”
“I do. You exiled me to the human world.” I answered
“You are my agent. I want to know the human life.”
“I want to be again the resident of hell,” I said
Satan said, “Stay there.”
I am my own worst enemy
I am my only friend
I am the curse inside from begining to the end
I am the enemy of love and kindness
I am it's friend crushed with blackened hate
I am cursed with something I can not mend
I am fire, blood, and rage inside
I am kindness, love, and peace
I am the epitome of nothing
I am tainted life bloods pulsing vein
I am a blade of comfort
I am cuts of acid rain
I am an angel of unveiling light
I am the prodigal child
I am giving up the fight
I am shadowed demon in the dark
I am damaged
I am a black stained mark
I am here
I am the epitome of nothing
I am everything
I am me
Susan M. Watson
You know, life is different, we can’t feel the same hope
Because of the will and ego. And the fate. And the knowing
Bad knowing. Far. From God. From life. Love just the God
I hate the primitivism. I don’t want enlightened psychology
I want God’s principles
God created the world
Not psychologists
God created the world
No psychology
Only words of God
God
Lord
God
Ruler
No psychology!
Just love
Love of God!
No psychology!
No poison!
Just Health
Creation
“Psychology is crime”, noted Satan
“Yes, because it deletes God’s will.”
I said
“Yes. Psychology doesn’t respect my principles."
Said God
“Because psychology accepts the ungodly lives.”
Answewred Satan
Psychology is not life
“Business.” Said Satan
Demon, bitter are thy days.
Pore o'er, anima.
Raking leaves for bonfires? Blaze.
Ice within me, thaw.
Weathervane, point to the stars?
Sky is full of these.
Half the year, like lids on jars.
Hide, O mysteries.
Blossom, honeysuckle.
Grow wild as ivy vines.
Knees of challenger, buckle.
Ocean, boil thy brines.
Tempest, grow tall. Hurl, O cloud.
Gun, thy machine nest.
Famous faces, lost in crowds?
Blessed bid bile best.
Ray of sun, burn evil out?
Sure, if sure you can.
Shade, what is thy life about?
Love, span what's began.
Frenzied fate, sing. Loud, my Muse.
Hound dog, quiet bay?
Proserpina, disabuse?
Well, sir, I just may.
Gauntleted fist, hard thy strike?
Don't fall off thy bike.
Spend time with a girl you like.
Barracuda? Pike.
Spike atop the city walls?
He who mills then mauls.
Chaos, how thy dancing calls!
Entropy, thy awls.
Perception, thrum! Warp, thy woof.
Steady heartbeat, ply.
Gambrel are the peaked roof?
Dreamer, thought must fly...
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