Terror Poems

Suitcase Solution

Whistle echoes in the tunnel
then smoke belches upwards
as the train halts at the platform
Disgorging its passengers
before porters offload baggage
Cases, trunks, sacks – all claimed
But no
There on the platform two suitcases
Side by side, travelling twins of no fixed abode
Ace of Spades on one, King of Hearts on the other
Unnoticed
Porters distracted as the cavalcade announces its arrival
Guard

Toilet Terror of Torbay - poop poem warning!

A student who hailed from Bombay
Eats curry for breakfast each day
On pakora he’d munch
As a snack or for lunch
The toilet is where he must stay

He suffers from dire 'Dheli belly'
Shared bathroom got terribly smelly
So he leased a commode
Where he’ll unleash his load
No studies, he poops watching telly!

His flatmate said, “Listen up Josh”
Your ling’ring stench means

The possession of a mad man is the only terror

It started soft and slowly
With only shallow things
An itch or twitch or swallow
But kindly not from me

The walls would twist and turn at night
And I’d be seeing things
A pillow to hold a choir within
And slowly simple things
Would do more then make me mourn myself
Do more then make me bleed

My chest was heaving rocks and smoke
Thrumming

When Night Had No Mercy

When Night Had No Mercy

I walked alone, dusk held the air,
A fork ahead—school light there,
And on the right, a shadowed wall,
Where silence hummed the siren's call.

Then feet—too many—closed around,
A hand, too rough, too fast, no sound.
My mouth was sealed, the sky went black,
They dragged me down, no turning back.

A van—its door, a waiting tomb,
They flung

Heavy

My terror grows with each passing night,
As slow, steady darkness steals away sight.
Footsteps and whispers add to my fright —
Is there an end to such desperate plight?
How long, too long, till dawn’s early light!
I clutch my candle in trembling hand,
And watch the shadows dance to understand
What I envision as its light expands
Through the room and

A Night of '89

A Night of '89

Footsteps at midnight
the knock no one dared answer.
Dogs howled in silence.

Charred Bodies on the road,
eyes still open to the sky.
The crows never ask.

Posters on the wall
by morning, the faces fade.
Smoke curls from tire pyres .

Mother lights a lamp.
Her son's shoes still by the door.
She dares not whisper.

Gunfire in the dusk,
then a scream

AI Existential Terror

a poem woke with a silent scream to find his mom was a machine

My Night Of Terror

There’s a lot of strange things going on in our world and our governments keep many of these sinister goings on under wraps.
Quote by poet.


At the edge of our town was a heavily guarded building, and was rumoured that it was an offshoot of area 51, You could easily drive past it because it was surrounded

Where Snow Weeps Crimson

Snow falls silently here  
On Pahalgam's mourning hills  
Pure crystal white turned red  

White flakes bear witness to loss  
Each one holds a mother's tear  

Snow remembers all  
Innocent faces frozen  
In time's bitter glass  

Terror's footprints disappear  
Yet snow preserves the sorrow  

Through snow-capped

Mental Terror

Mental Terror

Man is born to be a man. God created this principle
God created his image. His image. The human
Intelligence, free will, imagination, and the ability to act

We are the material fantasy of the God. His livings
The part of nature in our life. Of our life with God.
I love life, God. Mental terror blocks my life

Dot Dot Dot

What do you do
when your head feels like
a million pounds,
your chest is buried
underground,
where worms and slugs
and filth abound,
and rocks compound overhead,
compounding a heaviness
which even the heaviest cannot heave.

Where mere moments make a millennia
of torment -
For sleepless nights
make endless days
and endless days make immortality -

And mine is underground

Far
  Far
    Underground

Where hell itself

You'd Never Know

You'd never know
Surely no one could tell
I almost took my life ten months ago
From the flames inside that burned a living hell
Where demons dwell and angels ache to break free from below
It mustn't show, the absent soul hidden within a counterfeit shell

The Night They Came

We were five in the room,
Mama whispered her last prayer before bed,
the fan turned slowly, tired like the rest of us.
It was just another night
stars above, silence below.
Then the silence cracked open like a curse.

They came with shadows wrapped around them,
faces hidden, but eyes burning red.
No one spoke.
Only machetes did.
And they had a lot to

Flickering Ember

How did the sea become a crime?
How did its blue become a bruise on the face of history?
How did the verdure turn into red wrath,
breathing fire into burned hearts,
leaving behind it a black, frosty funeral?

How did the tree become a Fury?
Her strands of fire
strewn above the dew and tranquil mounts
Furious fire and melted iron

Lava and

The Age of Terror

(“Utopia and Terror Merit Badge”, 2010, original oil)

The Age of Terror

It’s a new reign of terror
With demon hit squads roaming the earth
To lurk on roof tops, hedges
And parking lots for their attack
While cowardly anonymous callers SWAT
The unsuspecting next in line.

All the time the voice boxes 
With their silent protest paddles 
And bullhorns call for mayhem

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