Philosophy Scary Poems

I see a forgotten house. 
I hear the cry of a rook. 
I feel the moonbeams in a still Brook.
I know the coming wind rising...

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Along a quiet river to nowhere were styx lean like broken crosses. The wind is gentle with a sent of quite decay or is that...

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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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Hot the lost lovers rage 
Walk within pantheons of gilded brigades
The passions roar as idolized lost sages
Of some immense meaning 
In supernatural things 
Without rhythms...

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Behind the curtains of this smile, are freshly sewed wounds;
Rich yarns finely whipped by the Armageddon; 
Each touch turned colder, from philosophy of ashes to...

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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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Darkest heart a ruddy black 
Dried blood and static
Blackest of black eyes roll in empty space
The darkest night in deepest oblivion 
Of volcanic hell frozen...

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--Ashtray's Mistakes--


Prehistoric defibrillating battlegrounds. The memorial, obviously unpleasant.

Entrapped in the know how, detrimental reimbursement.

Sundried; like the corpse of a moon bridge, fading away.

Tinfoil hats do...

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On forboding...


The rocky cliffs 
Stark against midnight 
Somber and austere.

Darkness sharp cold drifts 
In hollow halls 
In empty rooms with broken windows!

Deep underground...
In the deepest...

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Alabaster white, brazen in bold 
can’t be bought or sold!

Silent as it is Sinister 
somehow that alabaster glows?

Surface, a bony texture; cracks, fissures 
like something...

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Black Hotel
Immortal fear, 
blind rage appears on black rock… 

How does it rise along on a lonely beach?
…an outcrop of the night!

A black hotel looms...

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The nights grow long and the frost 
tinges the summer air, crisp n fresh. 

The coming autumn fire, the burn of wood
cedar & pine spices...

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What tis' the work of man 
to leave a testament 
to his grand plans, 
the usurper of the throne 
eternal is, man!

The after image 
of...

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Pushing past the tangles of imagery 
faded torn things better left unknown 
broken toys and metronomes tones 
scattered after a Wars drone 
the voices of...

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