Long Demonic Poems

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


The Epitome Begets An Illusion

The force is erupting another deified element. 
A calm walkabout that's gathering the fully intent.
The realm you seek is forward down the left hand path. 
To each his own, by this  trickery of faith and Holy wrath.
Devoured by the misunderstanding, and  directed by the multiple guises. 
Cast down beside the blind, by a God whom craft  demoralizes.
Ready to be the unforgotten besides the unholy moral compass is always true.
As the universe is constantly watching, of which belief do you truly  ensue?
Can it be possible that it's all been a climactic of a fully misinformed course? 
With an open mind to  believe, you must abandon  to completely  question it's  source. 
By my name is a casting of a runic force.
Bludgeoned by blunt words, provoked with their prayers, another exorcised possession.
Consider the exorcism to be the invoking of demons directly into human form from a demonic dimension.
Form: Pastoral


Premium Member Pain In Our Heart

Pain in my heart

Love doesn’t bother me. Never. I am afraid
My demonic life is sensitive, frozen in heart

No, can’t live this—horrific everything. Lady
Poison. I  want to be healthy. Stay, be a pain

Lady. Woman. My suffering heart. No need
You are a criminal. My walk. Wood. Hoped

I need ice. From your heart. Just a touch
I apologise, just, field, past, hope, our life

Life, I needed. Put me in the dark. Death
Best life. Be a shadow. A dropped. A pain

My dark. Just be. Our existence. The night
Hoped. Hoped. The hands, the hugs. Heart

I can’t stand
Can’t

Can’t
To live

I am sorry
For you

Without
Hmm

Pain in my heart
Still loving you

Premium Member The Murder of Souls Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen

thee deep seated hatred gnarling 
at ones soul beckoning eating away 
of the sheer foundation of self 
a terrifying entity alive and well 

searching the innermost calm 
of a peaceful being believing in 
the purity of goodness only to 
behold the hidden shallow virtue 

of demonic human angst being 
carried out between the realms 
of envy curled up beyond a quaint 
sudden rapture gathered above 

a sinking notion of the death 
of human compassion hindered so
to the point of no refuge from envy
forced to end ones on life in return 

comes across quite appealing rather
than behold the mere notion that envy 
has crawled inside the attic of your mind
hatred employs wrath murdering my soul

Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Form: Naat

Premium Member The Slayer

"Hello gorgeous. How are you?" he continued on,
"Your face could inspire poets to write many a sweet song."
"I know that you're evil," she responded in a  somewhat bored tone.
"You shouldn't kill others because,.. well that's just wrong."
He sensed no fear in her, but could see she was very aware of him.
He smiled revealing his fangs with a most demonic grin.
"You are correct my dear. I am one not to be trusted."
She drove a wooden stake through his heart and the vampire was dusted.
She then shouted aloud with her strongest voice,
"Be gone all you vampires! You haven't a choice!
I very much too, much like all of you, am a very dirty and unfair player.
None of you stand a chance against me. Be gone vampires! Flee,
or suffer my wrath, for I am the chosen one, The Vampire Slayer."
Form: Rhyme

My Name Is

MY NAME IS?
I always wake up feeling paranoid but never alone,
How many faces and shapes will I take?
Like a snake which sheds its skin, I change every time from one country to another, 
Wearing different faces, different masks,
I feel blessed and fortunate each time I help someone,
I helped improve people’s lives,
Living the dream life,
Feed the poor, provided shelter to the homeless,
They all seem to love me,
I have lived for ages,
I have seen wars; diseases and famine wipe out generations,
I will never really die,
Humans depend on me for survival,
My dark side emerges every time,
I sleep with prostitutes, slay queens &drug dealers, 
 I Made men & women kill for me,
They Offer sacrifices and demonic worship,
Some even worship me,
They have burned me with witches, but I keep coming back
Rising from the ashes like the phoenix bird,
Just to get a piece of my power,
I have brought down emperors, monarchy and countries,
I have led men to slaughter and began revolutions, 
I have been buried with dead presidents, kings and wealthy businessmen,
Some church members preach for me and lead their congregations astray,
Tonight I will dine with evil men whose hearts are dark,
My company will be heroin, cocaine, meth, molly, alcohol and purple haze, 
Some will purchase this products overdose, others will murder just to get a piece of the pie,
I lived with cartels, gangsters, mobsters   and they all love me,
They hide me on mattresses, carpets, ceilings, hidden cabinets and safes,
Some wrap me up in rubber bands, plastic bags,
Yesterday my company was the desert eagle, ak47, Uzi submachine gun, 33 callable pistols and m16,
These weapons of war will take innocent lives and wage war between different countries,
Will I ever die or go to sleep forever,
I am just tired of living this life,
Tomorrow they will print my brothers and hand me out,
I come in different denominations,
They call me Money, Benjamin’s, ace, bling- bling, dough & cash money.
© Mash Mulla  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Wendy Witch Changed My Mind

When I was a child witches were the demonic devils in faerie tales.
I was terrified of the old lady up the block who looked like Margaret Hamilton.
Witches, witchcraft and witchery were to be feared, and I was frightened.
Harvey Comics changed it up when they introduced us to Wendy Witch.
Wendy was kind and compassionate, she wanted to make friends.
She was a soft-hearted upstander who stood up for other people.
This was a new witch, a witch I wanted to know better.
She changed things up in my head, and I looked up witchcraft.
Witchcraft is not Satan’s workshop, it is gardening, it is herbs, it is awareness.
“To no one do harm” is the witch’s creed.
Who were these men who wanted us to fear witches?
Possibly jealous men who did not know how to garden.
I thank Harvey Comics for my mind shift regarding witches.
And Wendy Witch of course!

Vampire Vexation

Eeevile in the realm of the Undead
Chilled blood red cold
Vampire vexation - sexy at best.
Wrapped in comfortable uncomfortable silence
Silence so sharp - you can feel the fangs at your neck.

Sanctimonium or sanctimonious
Vampires dripping of sophistication
They make a show of letting you know
That morally they ARE the BY FAR

With eyes so dark, so deep, so very tinged with icy heat
They draw you in with that sinful all-consuming stare
And tease you with the taste of truth or dare
Soo good it's bad and you can't wait.
To experience the grandeur of that liquid of life
Consuming it excites you
Allowing you to see past death and into the light of forevermore.

Cloaked in satin and bedding in secrets
While bemused by the beguiling beauty of the night
Vampires are never at odds with their shadow selves
They are just inadvertently lethal

You are cruelly entranced
By the bloodlust and the romance
The sensual, seductive man thing
Beckens you beseechingly
Brazen with decadence

Defying decency
He extends his elegant gloved hand
Drawing you in closely
While seemingly mirrored medieval menace
Brings out the dead in your eyes
And happily ever after becomes such a bore

Goodnight my darling you have opened and shut the door
Drank of the blood
Vampire Vexation is now your forevermore....
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Heaven or Hell?

Heaven or Hell?

What is the best choice? Up or down? Hell or Heaven?
Where are these places? Have you been there? Exists?

Up or down? This is just a figurative interpretation. Fictitious
There are no directions. Directions come from human imagination

But fantasy, because the human mind wants to create stability
Up, down, left, right, forward, backward. Only a created coordinate system

Heaven. The home of purified souls. They were people, they became angels
Hell. The home of the fallen and downtrodden souls, and the enlightened

What about the world? About human life? Maybe the Earth is hell?
Jesus said that the wicked will be cast out into the outer darkness of the earth

But where is the place of that darkness? Maybe it doesn’t have a specific location
And what is the darkness? And why is the darkness? Can the darkness be good?

Sometimes in my meditations, I see people from the past. Almost every time, ladies
Very interesting. So interesting. In the dream, these ladies are gorgeous

Yes, but the characters are more contrasting, longer bodies, demonic shapes, and wonders
They speak in a friendly and wonderful voice. They want to take some humans …

Yes. Our dead lives, loves, and wants meet with the present lives in our world
No. They're just calling us. They select souls from the world of people

Yes. But where is the hell? Where is heaven? Maybe different planets?
No. The past ladies are here. But far. Only a soft window is the borderline

The other world is here, but we can not see it. Optical limitation.
I love them. We will live together. Live after death. Happy hellish life

Heaven or Hell? I think I’d be bored in heaven.
Hell is a dualistic world. Creation is possible there.
I will go to hell. First. To try life there. 
And if it is good, then I will stay there.

Blood Lust

What sinister secrets
lurk within my mind,
What raging storms
grip my heart,
What malicious maelstroms
swirl in my eyes,
What demonic forces
torment my soul...
You don't wanna know!

It will only entice you
in its dreadful dragnet
And drag you through
an undead necropolis.

I thirst for the blood
And subsist on the 
life essence of living creatures,
Prowling relentlessly in the
shadows of the moonlit nights
awaiting my next meal.

CROSS your heart 
                 when you see me,
CROSS your heart now 
                 when you read this,
   I can feel you breathe
   Sense your heart pounding 
   Smell the sweat of your fear --

So I said so in truth,
So you have been forewarned!



~06/25/2013
~Deep and Dark II contest by Laura Loo
Form: Verse

Premium Member Through the chambers of silence where lost time stirs

Through the chambers of silence where lost time stirs,
In the room where once hopes blossomed in a flight towards the horizon,
Now stretches a wasteland that whispers from shadows and profound horrors,
All for your diaphanous light, for your silver rays that shatter.
In the altar of distant youth, where my dreams walked unceasingly,
I've searched throughout for hidden spells in corners of unending, untouched world,
Which spirit of darkness did you penetrate, did you seek with your full, spherical eye?
Emptied of eternity, scratching for the key that pours freedom into the clear sky.
Underneath a cloak of stars, your serene gaze wide open with breadth,
Just a moment in the eternal, when the full moon shows your essence, reveals what is to come.
How could I have suspected, with my unripe mind, with the unknowing mystery in fragile dreams?
A demonic truth, only understood when the light dimmed and evening turned late.
Was I your celestial meridian, the point where destiny diverges,
Where my blood might boil like some heated metal in Vulcan's hearth,
The teeth to become sharp swords, the soul, a wild, wandering beast,
In a world of night, strong and thirsting, a shadow that lays flesh low.
Oh, Moon, your play of fate has woven my heart from shadows and grace,
Enchanting lady of the night, I find your mystic artistry now bitter.
You, now weaving my deep chain of curse, are the saltworks that burns in my dreams,
And I, prisoner of dusk, search for a respite of light, but fall back into evils.
But you, guardian of the night, in your astral dance resembling both fortune and doom,
You watch my descent into the abyss, to see the beauty of the horror you without mercy or spot have staged.
The stranger, myself, transformed by you, a wildness I now carry at my chest like a heavy stone slab,
Whose genesis is repentance, and every heartbeat, an echo of a world that once was.
And yet here I stand, beneath your cascade of cold lights,
Where flesh ends and the spirit outstretches its wings, softly so.
Seeking an escape, amidst memories, amidst ruins, in their darkness,
In your celestial crater I find myself, a sharer of the night, of nights bathed in tremble and thrill.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

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