Metaphor Scary Poems

In the webbed corners of my brain 
There blooms a sinister flower 
Its petals dripping with venom 
 And thick roots entwined with despair 

Begins...

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you know 
it's bad when your 
guardian angel runs

I often wonder
how quiet is it
right before the end

that brief pause
just before
extinction

the universe takes
a double-take
in disbelief, in...

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Those are scary things that hide in the shadows
I hope they fall off the edge, to the gallows
When they rise from deep; haunting skills with...

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I don't want to hurt others with this thought
But my work can hurt others besides myself

I'm spinning, I don't know what to do
Like the ocean...

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Genre: Poetry
Title: Rebirth
Author: John King Ayanfe ©

I'm a being beaten by a bragging-heartless life
Being a being beaten by beasts baffles my broken being
Ever being seared...

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My friend, don’t struggle so
Not much longer to go
No more working for the all-mighty buck
No more lusting after the…
Ahhh your dirty mind 
Will be the...

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I saw two gold diggers chasing  by dangerous dogs. 
Hidden behind the hindu golden statues of gods.
Screaming for help, some people came to help them,...

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Lurching out of the door into darkness 
A street full of people, bodies pass n collide

Plunging from dark to light!

Not looking at or thinking of...

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- The reality perspectives
                     ...

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fractured; the angry march
to I’s nexus

red, not gold, tracks.. wired to
perfect black

catastrophic chiroptera
see this cornucopia -

what plenty?...

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Is that you there 
I recognize that stair
Those eyes of a faraway dream
Fancy seeing you here, on this twilight day 
While walking along this 
Sterile...

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In doom light, I see all that is & 
Ever was, I see all the façades 
Stripped away n callouses 
Tearing away all the love...

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Deep inside the deepest realms where I reside
Were fragments of the day's holocaust 
Finds windows to darkest dreams

So dark they can gestate resinate contemplate
Sinister things...

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a procession

shadowed ravens watch 
depressive day turns
the winds bring Frost 

Skelton branches clutch 

Ghosts dance after the fall 
The procession crawls 
To the point of...

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The eyes are the window into the soul.
A passageway into the darkest nights 
of deepest dreams.

To the eternal nightmares of ancient lands
Where streets run as...

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