Long Demon Poems

Long Demon Poems. Below are the most popular long Demon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Demon poems by poem length and keyword.


Your Nothing To Me

You're nothing
You're a disgrace
You've been dishonored
You've been unmasked
For the villain
That you are.


You know not
What true love is
You know not
The meaning of family.


All you know is yourself
Self-centered and egotistic
Who deserves the spotlight
Shine upon him
Thinking the world 
Revolves just for you.


I hate to burst your bubble
Of your twisted perfect reality
But the world revolves around nobody
Not even for a scumbag like you.


The spotlight shines upon all
It doesn't play favorites
Your not the star of the show
Your just a stage hand playing pretrend.


You talk amongst your blood
But don't praise your offspring
You dont' spare time 
To fix what is broken
You let it all go to ruin.


Your heinous crimes
Can never be forgiven
The lies you spout
Tried to warp my mind
But no more lies 
I'm through with you.


You put yourself before others
You think highly of yourself
You care not for emotions
Not know what they are
Your like a robot 
Without an empathy chip.


You've hurt many people 
Your road is crumbling
Burning bridges behind you
Poisoning the family tree
With your sickening presence.


No more, I say!
I take the axe of change
Chopping the rot 
Right off the tree
Drench it with fresh rain
To bring it back to life.


You're a waste of space
You're a disgrace to the family
You're a disappointment
You're a lazy bum
You have no respect
You have no morals.


I shout from the depths of my soul
I shout for the world to know 
The courageous roar of a dragon
Planting her feet deep in the dirt
To announce her right to say
"YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME!"


Be gone, foul demon!
Return to hell from which you came
Away you go from my sight
I wish to never see your face again!


You're a burden
You're a parasite
You're a moocher
You're a sloth
You're a liar!


Ye who dare to bring our family shame
Try to bring ruin to our name
I cast you out of my life!
Your no longer my father
The father I knew
Died a long time ago!


Replaced by a lout
Replaced by a bum
Replaced by an imposter
Replaced by a Jackass!


You mean nothing to me!
You're an embarassment
You're not my father
I've lost all respect for you!


Away with you now
Get the hell out of here
I don't wish to see you
I don't want you in my life
You mean nothing to me
YOU ARE NOTHING!
© Megan Ryan  Create an image from this poem.


The Dogs We Called Family

The Dogs we called Family

Tara came first and then there was Ben,
When both of them died we said never again.
Then Sam the runner, got killed in the street,
Prince came and went quick, we didn't know he was sick.
He came from a farm where distemper was rife,
Took him to the vet where he ended his life.
One year had to pass to get our house clear,
Without a mutt there, it seemed without cheer.
One day I was out and the Pound I happened to pass,
I doubled back and I looked through the glass.
Inside I walked, many dogs ignoring my stare,
Until one at the end looked up at me square,
Sat on her haunches both paws outstretched.
She's the one, I knew, so my family I fetched.
I said nothing to them of the dog I had seen,
When they saw the same one I knew they were keen.
The dog was due for the jab that very hour,
To save her life now was in our power, you see.
We paid the fee for her life, Our Lucy was free.
She was the new member added to our family of four,
She lived with us and loved us for 19 years more.
While she was with us we had another to add,
Along came Jamie the Yorkie,he was a bit of a lad.
Like Ben he stayed near ten years and sadly passed.
Lucy died of old age, we said it's time to give in.
Our Garden Cemetery of loved ones was full to the brim.
To Cyprus we came to retire and live in the sun,
Of a dog in the family we didn't want one.
Then a visit to Larnaca was to change our life again,
Because along came Lexi to start it all over again.
She was soon followed by Levi, he was a lively one,
Then came Eli, the whirlwind and pain in the bum.
So from just us two forever as we'd planned,
Now we were five and life was once again grand.
A sad day loomed we had no idea of what was to come,
Levi was walking wrong so we took him to the vet
He had hurt his spine, as bad as it could get.
His rear end gave out and could not be reversed.
He was paralyzed, and getting steadily worse.
The love he gave us in his life reduced us to tears.
The vet said it's time he confirmed our worst fears.
We let him go to where he could romp with all the rest,
All the dogs in our family, they were the best.
With Tara and Ben, Jamie,Charlie the Pinscher and Lucy too
Neo the Collie  and Big Ben & Storm the Rottweilers two,
Newfoundland Curtis and Demon the Chow,
All Pals together, in the Big Kennel now.

© Dave Timperley May 5th 2016
Form: Epitaph

A Drop of Rain Water

Since the begining of days when my heart became an advocate of concrete paths, I have 
come to understand the joys that are unprecipitated fears and the fears that are purpose. 
For so long I have adapted to the muddy waters that breed beautiful roses with thorns of 
such pure poison. Taking into my lungs the fresh air, this same air that is only fresh with the 
will of foul principle, yet some how law. Speaking the language that has no sound and 
somehow it is always too loud for its own good. Induction in the chase for things that keep 
my temperature down in the summer while making the atmosphere a little warmer. Like 
something chilly for my wrist ,neck, ears and hands. In the most artic of winters things that 
keep me warm like having a personal zoo, mink, chinchilla, fox, rabbit, beaver, and ostich 
and yet winters are still so cold. Realizing that somehow winters burn the soul, as summers 
tend to freeze the heart. Love is the sound of nature and its remeberance of present. Eagles 
scream through the air, colts break the pavement with 38 and 45 calibers of pressure. The 
floating of land crafts with special made wheels, stars, spokes, claws, blades, all in chrome 
reflecting the spite of happiness in this life. Delicate feminims that perform the sweetest of 
actions with the audacity to control the wheather of man. Sunny days, cloudy months, and 
years of storm. Pleasure is found everywhere and yet it is never found, so pain is the 
blessing of that same pleasure seeked. With each passing day I appear cleaner, except for 
my work related smudges(from the parkway to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the 
community). All the things I want I have and still I have nothing. Today has been here a 
thousand times and only once,tomorrow will pass as yesterday returns. This is where the 
truest kisses come from angels, yet the only blessings are from the breath of the demon. 
This is home, the city of hustle in the divided states of atrocity. So much passionate turmoil, 
so much un-affordable affection that is afforded by price and un-conditional purpose. As the 
tears of an infant blend with the crying of the clouds this waters brings hope of a changed 
existence. One that is the best life, not heaven or hell, not paradise, but life as it could be, 
life in a drop...a single drop... Of Rain Water!            Live, Suffer, Celebrate!
© Son Winter  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

There's a Whole Lot of Shaking Going On

there's a whole lot of shaking going on and you're all shook up
but that is how life is when you drink from God's cup
life can take unexpected turns and have you all spun around
just remember who's in control and has the power to settle life down
now Paul and Silas were in prison for simply preaching the gospel
but after praying to God He then did the impossible
 
when life has you all shook up you need to stand back and sit still
don't be negative, have a little talk with God and then wait on His will
continue to do what is required of you and trust in God to show you a plan
for God can open new doors in a way you might not even understand
but that's okay as the word of God says to lean not towards your own understanding
but to wait for the will of God to intercede and to do what the Spirit is demanding

if you have a relationship with God He might shake up your normal routine
to take you out of your comfort zone and into a place you've never seen
it might not make much sense to you and you might even disagree
but God knows what is best when it comes to your destiny

accepted beliefs, traditional concepts and that's how it's always been done
but a whole lot of shaking will be going on and your faith may be under the gun
sop forget those accepted beliefs and let God guide you along
allow Him to shake things up and put you where He knows you belong 
as no weapon formed against you will prosper nor come to fruition
allow the will of God to shake things up and put you in a better position

now the adversary also has the power to shake things up in your life
just recognize the enemy for what he is and then call on the power of Christ
a young girl who was demon possessed had caused a riot to manifest
with lies told against Paul and Silas they found themselves under arrest
but Paul and Silas did not possess the spirit of fear
for they knew that the Lord God would always be there

so at the midnight hour when all hell tends to break out
that's when to the Lord our God Paul and Silas did pray and shout
and lo and behold God answered their call
an earthquake occured and shook the prison walls
then all the cell doors flew open 
and all the shackles were then broken

for when the praises to God go up the blessings of the Lord come down
and there will be a whole lot of shaking going on 
but that's okay you're on sacred ground
Form: Epic

Your World-My World

What is the difference between night and day... between darkness and light... Evil and good... Angel and Demon... How can we live among each other and survive.. hearing about hope.. trust.. honesty... and how can they live with Lust, despair, depression, agony, anger and such heartlessness... 

You speak to me about this word called "Hope"..
Everyone has a chance to create their own lives.. to change the hand they were dealt
That there is something better out there
You just have to remind yourself of all the small happiness that happened to you over the years and it soon becomes greater than the despair..
You claim to be sadness.. to be depression.. 
In reality you just have moments of lowness...
Your world is surrounded with beautiful waving trees
A sunset that lights up the dawn sky
Somehow the ocean looks beautiful to you, the glistening of the sun upon the waves
You see happiness in everything that happens to you, you see something positive in all the things life gave you
But..
What if we do not see the same thing, what if I live in the darkness... 
The deranged half of this world of which you cannot see.. 
What if everything you see, I see in complete blackness..
The sky is grey, the ocean is red... and the aura around my world is chained to a dark future..
How is it that we can live on the same planet.. but see two different views..
I can sense your light.. you can sense the darkness I hold within me.. All I see for you is a horrible ending.. Your hope.. is my dark secret
In my world I see you as the beggar.. the one who tells you good tales.. but can never prove them.. and keep asking for your attention.. they want you to believe them.. but yet you cannot see the sun in bright orange colors because in your world there is no sun .. there is only a moon... 
Your beautiful day for me is like the desecration of a grave...

So I will ask you again...

What is the difference between night and day... between darkness and light... Evil and good... Angel and Demon... How can we live among each other and survive.. hearing about hope.. trust.. honesty... and how can they live with Lust, despair, depression, agony, anger and such heartlessness... ?

Does light.. somehow stabilize.. the darkness... ?
Can a Demon live without lusting for something pure?
How is it that the day can turn into night so quickly as if its not painful.. ?
Form: Lyric


Premium Member Buzz Off

I swung with a vengeance but missed that damned fly
The breeze I’d created caused him to pass by
My electric racquet in underarm mode
Still failed to make that bluebottle explode

It filled me with hate as it buzzed round my plate
I swung and I swung and became more irate 
That foul little demon was soon to be dead
As soon as it took itself off of my head

Now, I’m not a coward in anyone’s book
But I’m in no hurry to smell my brain cook
I angled my zapper to strike as it rose
And almost set fire to the tip of my nose

It flitted at speed like a Pac-Man on heat
But I am a human… I will not be beat
My dinner was cooling and it wasn’t salad
I’ll murder that fly and then write me a ballad

Overarm, underarm, back-hand and flip
My energised racquet was firm in my grip
At one point it landed on chandelier-high
And I had to wave that light fitting goodbye

My sausage was cold (can we please keep this clean)
And I had become a fly killing machine
A back somersault and a cartwheel or two
My electric racquet had flashed neon blue

Poor little Tiddles, she trusted me so
Her recuperation has some way to go
But I’ll give her cuddles and snuggles and then
I dearly regret that I zapped her again 

Twas kinda Dick Whittington, but in reverse
Tiddles left home and I don’t know what’s worse
My poor little kitten is out on her own 
But that demon-fly is at rest on my phone

How great the temptation to say what the hell
And batter that fly and my iPhone as well
But then it took off and it sped through the air
I swung and I swiped and set fire to my hair

Okay I confess; just a few hairs got singed
But I don’t have many and that’s why I whinged
In anger I swiped at the sound of its hums
Which came close to giving me two deep fried plums

How bloody long can a bluebottle live
My electric racquet and I cannot give 
Yet more gymnastics to vanquish our foe
As I shoot some volts through my right hand big toe

I whirled like a dervish and now on a mission
I swung like a thing that had infra red vision
But, boy, did I cheer at the quiet little ‘phut!’
As that fly took a window to find it was shut

                               ***

But now I feel guilty for I’ve done okay
Though I don’t know who saw me swinging away
I owe my new job to that small airborne menace
My local school wants me to teach the kids tennis
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sleepless In Whereis Part 1

I’m stealing through a twilit realm, the ancient pale of Whereis,
passing chambers of an Heiress
(though no need to feel embarrassed)
through a magic mystic mirror hanging curtainless.

A glimpse near naked alleyways (denuded by the moon) ex-
poses Ghosts in gauzy tunics
carving symbols, round and runic,
in distended dingy dungeons of uncertainness.

Down misty streets of cobblestone – ancestral avenues –
patchwork paths consume my shoes
(chasing foggy curlicues
twisting, twirling by in twos,
floating anywhere they choose),
leaving footprints that confuse
vagrant wispy retinues
of the threaded wooden sticks that stalk a Puppet wandering.

Condensed in drops of fantasy, distilled in evening dew,
shifting Shadows I pursue
(wearing faces I once knew,
slipping slowly from my view)
turn their backs to bid adieu 
leaving stars to tempt me through
Awful Tower residues
mocking treasures time outgrew
in the birth of old from new
framing pageants in review
midst the visions of the painted past I can’t help pondering.

Contorted candelabra claw the skyline’s walled suspension 
caught in twilight’s intervention
– still unlit (in stark dissension), 
therefore seething with a tension
in the quiet apprehension
of the Watchman’s inattention
to the night-time’s bold pretension
to her power, not to mention,
to her hyperspace extension
(far beyond my comprehension
of the sundown’s bleak dimension) –  
on exhausted beaten boulevards of foolish fretfulness.

Oblivion depletes me, voiding haste and hurried hassles,
me, a simple abject vassal,
trailing moonlit floating castles,
– fickle feet, but fingers facile
grasping straws and pendant tassels –
as I stumble through the rubble of forgetfulness.

I think I must be dreaming as I seem to see these things,
neath a sky alive with wings
(hear the Nightingale, she sings),
midst the whispered murmurings
soughed by Phantoms clad as Kings
pacing palaces in rings,
while their hapless footfall clings
to the sagging sinking sands of midnight’s splintered splattered ruins.

Entangled in the swirling leaves that spin in dizzy flurries,
(while the wind beside me scurries
as an ermined hermit hurries)
lurk my sleepy woes and worries
(glowing faint’ but growing blurry)
which, when plundered by the demon dusk, I’d left behind me strewn.


 Continued in Part 2
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Serial Killer

If you look close you can see my disguise
I've got the mind of a killer buried deep in my eyes..
I've a different mind set than most you see.
I'm driven and fueled by a pure sense of apathy
just to take blood, just to get my thrill.
I have a demon inside I can't seem to kill
Another day. Another dead.
I slash my knife till I see red.
There's nothing left to do today.
Another life has been taken away,
but not in haste and not in waste,
only just in time for me to have another taste.
I'm lost in a state of mind.
I'm lost searching for another of my kind,
but my lonely mind is my only friend.
My lonely mind will be with me until the end.
A lonely whisper in your ear
says the very last thing you want to hear.
I stare into your eyes and you hear me say,
"Believe it or not, you're going to die this way."
Another day. Another dead.
There's something wrong inside my head.
I'm a serial killer. I am a true monster.
I kill only to satisfy my deviant pleasure.
I wear one face to the public and another to only me.
The true me I must never allow anyone to see.
One small glimpse into my non existent personality
can very well be the beginning of the end for me.
My prey however do get to see
the monster I keep caged inside of me.
You may awaken bound to my table one day
and with my blade held above you I will then go on to say,
"You're going to die now, and you're going to die my way."
Another night. Another bloody success.
Another craving satisfied. Now I can get some rest.
Yes I am a monster but I do live with a strict code.
I never kill innocents. I kill killers ruthless and cold.
Some killed for pleasure. Some killed for pay.
There's plenty of killers to kill to satisfy my sick crave.
If you've ever killed an innocent life
I'm going to one day introduce you to the blade of my knife.
I'm not trying to be a hero or a vigilante kind of fella.
I'm a psychpath with an addiction. I'm a serial killer,
but I guess you can say that I'm doing God's will.
It just happens to also provide me with a deep, dark, sick thrill.
My code is to kill killers who kill for pleasure or who kill by being bought.
If I kill innocents, I stand a greater chance of getting mysef caught.
If you're a killer, you and I will cross paths and I'll sure be happy to meet ya.
I'm America's most loved serial killer. My friends all call me Poindexter.
Form: Rhyme

The Beast Within

Where does my conscious go, when demons raise their fiery eyes, 
They steal my very soul, killing all which is sanctified,
Engulfed by instant fears, no longer hearing loved ones cries, 
The beast within appears, telling me I am justified,

I have already lost, no reprieve from my mortal sin, 
All reason now is blocked, as I become the beast within,
No pity can I feel, as I make my grandiose stand, 
Yes the horror is real, as I destroy all that I can,

Where do my feelings go, when demons raise their snarling lips, 
Bringing an all new low, into my life now torn to bits,
Certain of being right, I flail and thrash as if in fits, 
I threaten and I strike, with great fury the demon spits,

Yet I still stand and shout, my ugly hate and derision, 
Accusing lies said out loud, revolting words - degradation,
Just look at what I’ve done, I scream my blatant confession, 
Ready to blame anyone, for my evil molestation,

Where does my true love go, when demons raise their gruesome head, 
Destroying all I know, without slightest hesitation,
There is no where to hide, hideous deeds - infinite dread, 
Shame crushes senseless pride, nothing left but devastation,

Recoiling in horror, reality enters the room, 
Now begins the torture, judgment of my now mortal soul,
The evil that is me, my conscious has become my tomb, 
I look and all I see, marks my spirit and takes its toll,

Where does salvation go, when demons raise their awful screech, 
Making damnation grow, as dark shadows envelope me,
How can I persevere, and escape from this demon’s reach, 
For he is always near, and may kill eventually,

Cold and chilling insight, I now realize what is at stake, 
And the one path which might, protect the ones I truly love,
But how can I just leave, this world I worked so hard to make, 
And cause even more grief, for family and God above. 

Where does my resolve go, when demons raise their deadly claws,
Tearing at all I know, stealing my conscious care and pride,
I can’t run anymore, all is destroyed everything lost,
Now beaten tired and sore, I’ve lost my path into the light,

Who can I reach out to, when all I love recoil in fear, 
Eyes beseech black and blue, where once was love - now only hate,
Yes I know - I’m the cause, the reason for each falling tear,
And while demons give pause, I must face my terrible fate.
Form:

Premium Member Time's Shadowy List

Contrary to popular myth, Einstein did NOT reject the existence of Time, but he did reject the differences of its elements, stating that "the distinction between past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion" ...


TIME ...

Is a phantom with many faces
It drifts, a blotchy mist from our early years
The cognizance of self-awareness like a patchwork quilt
Most memorable moments shining like warm sunlight
Mundane and everyday, a foggy swirl, as we slowly become ... ourselves
Memories splicing together like a movie in our mind ...
We learn and experience, as the images from memory clarify
All flowing like a rill to who and what and where we are
It is an invisible, ghostly yardstick
Chopped up into segments that we build actuality around
An ethereal inchworm, crawling at the pace we allow it
We watch it, breathless, wondering what branch it will take
What it will make or show of the now or then or later
It is beastly wraith that controls and objectifies all we do
We are powerless before it, yet we worship it with our every heartbeat
It is a monster in the dark
A horrid creature under the bed, waiting to grab our ankles
And pull us into the bleak, oily black of oblivion
It dances in the dark of night
Wearing the skin of our hopes, and the mask of our dreams
Laughing at promise like a mad moon laughs at the tides
It is a demon, immutable and brazen
The unchangeable mirror of our mistakes and pains and decisions
Thumbing its nose at our cold conscience
And yet, it is an angel, too
That carries on its wings the brightest of thoughts
The joys and loves and friendships that sustain us
Bright sparkles on the wave tops of what was, treasured and golden
And though we strain with all our might and marrow
We can never touch those many faces
For no sooner have we gazed on its visage than it has turned away
No sooner do we see it approach - smiling, waving, affirming
Than it has flashed by us in a swirl
It is our god and our devil
Our hope and our despair
Our villain and our lover
The keeper of our consciousness, moments and prospects
Our precise measure of what can NEVER be measured
And the universal spirit of existence
That will never, ever ... exist.





~ 1st Place ~  in the "Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 - List" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart, Judge & Sponsor.
Form: List

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