Sorrow Scary Poems

beak
of the plague mask
    lest I smell
your rotting bodies
    strewn
I smell your crosses
  daub your doors
I smell your...

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The Revenant pt. 1 - A Blighted Vale (pt 2/2)

Amongst the dead and dying trees,
A Stygian crypt of crumbling stone
A doorway opened, not with man-made...

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This is the tale of Sarah Pike
Who lived in a cottage at Hangman’s Dyke,
Twixt Preston and old Burnblack town
She walked the byways up and down.
Travellers...

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I had a happy childhood at first
Yeah I played with dolls to a tragic
Extent. It was a dream of some
Type of female existence.  I...

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This land of entitlement 
entertainment and enterprise 
lost burnt broken...despised 
skeletal structures reaching 
griping 
clutching 
scraping this infernal sky!

Arcane factories sit on horizons 
haunted like...

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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 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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In shadows deep where darkness hides
There lies a bag of eight-legged horror
A bag of spiders where dread resides
Creeping and crawling, causing sorrow

With nimble legs they...

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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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In the dark
ticking of the clock 

along the ancient walls
silence is deafening
echoes in the halls

the moon glows, cold
as its bright moonbeams 
are sliced into sliver...

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The table is old and worn
nicks and scratches 
its red plastic tablecloth left over from a forgotten Christmas
its holiday pattern worn and forlorn
many a Thanksgiving...

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As clear skies fade from blue to gray 
The joy of life’s past sails to yesterday 
Yet I find myself.....
Living in the glory of the...

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I feel his hot breath upon my cheek
Hurrying to devour, wishing me dead
Singling me out as if I were a freak

I silence the fears as...

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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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