Haunted Lunacy Poetry

The heart is sinful, In the way it makes  us love. It holds us captive to the whims of angels, that  fell from heaven  up above.

Damned to an eternity  of writing this haunted verse,  emotions ripped from my soul, this pen is my  curse. Thoughts and feelings  deteriorate my mind,  but only this pen and paper,  do I find.   No one to listen,   no one to care, but the ink, oh yes, the ink,  the ink is always there. Black with depression,  thick from the pain, My heart defined in  a little dark stain. These words are my madness  bleeding from within. This pen is my curse, this ink is my sin.

Such beautiful daffodils  lay dead at her feet. Wilted and broken, dead petals so sweet. She tramples them  and smiles, for she feels  no pain. she giggles with  delight and grows dark  once again. She’s silent in the shadows, where eyes do not see. Her heart kept in a box, and hidden from thee. No eyes can behold her, nor arms hold her tight, lest he become as the  daffodils, at her feet tonight .

Deep within me two beast  do dwell, Each gnashing their teeth and  bleeding like hell. Fighting to the death for my  fragile human soul, The one that I feed,  is the one that gains  control. The dark one is brutal  and dominates the light , The light one is vigilant and  won’t give up the fight . They claw and they scratch ,  clench their teeth around my  heart. Spitting pieces into  my mind  that tear my soul apart. 

She frolicked amongst the  devils daisies., trampling under foot each  and every one. Whimsical laughter escapes  her lips, an endless ballet of  maniacal fun. Her feet move gracefully  through the grass, Her arms swing violently  through the air. Singing the sweet song  of her demons, Performing for an audience  that isn’t there. Beautifully mad, erotic, and crazy, The girl that frolics amongst the devils  daisies.

Dance with the lunatic  beneath the devils moon. Delirium’s sweet kiss, unending chaotic swoon. Pirouette for the madman, Sway to his song. Welcome to his ballet of broken souls.

A breathless incarnation, the angel that stood before me. Her wings singed by the fires of hell, and eyes that did  adore me, but the devil that lives Inside my soul, he did arise and  take his toll. He set ablaze, her pretty wings, and tossed her like all broken things. The angel she did become a ghost, and the devil wept, for he  missed her most. On bended knee  he sought her grace, and the angel she did show her face. He vowed to never do evil again,  the angel forgave him and  cleansed him of sin.

Demonic pleasures, / wrapped in her eternal wings, / searing death awaits. 

Who am I?  The devil knows. Drowning in thoughts, an endless sea of poetry and prose. Deafening madness, a masterpiece of mental  chaos and quiet woe. So who am I you ask? A forlorn poet. The devils festering muse. Impaling my soul upon this pen, wailing and screaming silently  through every word I choose. I am but a whisper on the wind blowing through your silky hair. Chilling your skin only for a moment, then forever gone into the night. Quickly forgotten, but the ink remembers, Yes, the ink remembers.

It’s lonely here in the grey. No arms to hold me, no lips to say it’s ok. Cold, unfeeling colors stain my paper skin. Erase me forevermore.

Within me, darkness, / as the stars in your eyes fade, / eternal weeping.

The storm in your eyes, / my beautiful disaster. / this heart beats no more.

The poets soul weeps, / crying syllables in ink, / each letter a tear.

My soul is bleeding, / pages stained with crimson pain. / Quiet hollow screams.

The poet whispers / scriptures of a grieving soul, / haunted lullabies.

Eyes do tell, where lips betray, revealing the soul , the mortal  sway. The lies they hide behind words  sincere, but your gaze reveals those  secrets so dear. A well turned phrase, cold  chills on skin, manipulations to hide untold sin. Every syllable, a play for control, they can’t be concealed in those  windows to the soul. When the words I love you the  mouth does speak, that moment is when,  our eyes shall meet.

Waiting, wanting, weeping, Forlorn broken soul. Tender beauty sleeping, never letting go. Secret silent reaping, buried deep below. Pain inside creeping, waiting, wanting, weeping.

Alone so no one  can hear me scream, In my deepest, darkest, melancholy dream. In the shadows silent weeping, It only hurts when I’m not sleeping. To close my eyes and become someone else, anything is better than being myself. My thoughts, my demons, won’t stay away,  no one loves me when I’m this way.  A broken soul will never heal,  even God doesn’t love me, if He is real.  So I’ll dwell alone forever it seems,  In my deepest, darkest, melancholy dream.

She weeps among the  dying roses, for she too is wilted  just like them. One by one the petals   fall, just like she once did  for him. The thorns they prick her, And she does bleed. She gasps, for the pain,  reminds her of he.  Wailing and screaming with curses on her breath. The sorrow inside her is far worse than death. Looking  to the sky she laments at the moon,  and prays for the heavens to heal up this wound. Rising to her feet,  she walks away. She wants to die,  but not this day.

Haunted by yesterday, reminiscent of sin. Such grace in your eyes, forgiveness again. Silence, it screams, cold and unnerving. In the heart of a man, who is so undeserving. The darkness has lifted, My eyes look to the light,  but still my soul trembles, at your ghost by midnight.

In the tall grass I stood  and stared, the sway of the trees so  cold and bared. The stars in the sky shine  like eyes, demons from  my past. The wind touches  my skin, an embrace   that won’t last.   A wolf howls in the  distance, it knows  the hour, It waits in the darkness,   for my flesh to devour. I lie on back, and settle  into sleep, Think of my final moments,  and silently weep.

On my bedroom floor lies all of the skin I  shed of who I was before. What once was clean is now obscene , and stained with sin That I don’t want to  touch once more . I will shove it in my closet and try to forget. Hiding the me that  i will always regret . I can’t get out of my bed or let my feet touch the floor. In fear I’ll step into the skin, and become that man once  more.

Monsters waiting outside  my door, tearing and clawing,  waiting to devour my heart once more. Muffled screams and  haunted whispers, fiery words that singe  and blister. I can’t fight them off  again, If I relent and let  them back in. So I retreat inside  and brace for attack, and pray to a god that  doesn’t have my back.

The bones rattle as it plans it’s escape. Beneath my skin it lies angry and awake. Patiently waiting for my  eyes to sleep, planning its freedom  from the pain so deep. I’m growing tired, It see’s it’s chance. Behold the beauty of the skeleton dance.

Writhing, trembling, plagued by sin. Screaming, silence, endless desire to  escape my skin . Darkness, doom, impending dread, carnival of demons  Inside my head. I am just a side show, the people, they all wait, to see all of the monstrosity’s, that my heart and mind create. Purchase all your tickets, and settle in your seats. Prepare for the horrifying  spectacle, that is my self  defeat.

Silent, never speaking ,  lips that never move. Violent, inner weeping,  tears that fail to soothe. Screaming lungs,  repent my sin, on my knees with  guilt again. Alone amongst  the dewdrops.

The ink has breath in my strange paper world. Erupting into life with every stroke of the pen  unfurled. She lives within my pages, and walks among the lines, that carry the weight of  every letter, that her beauty now defines. Hushed paper tones, and syllables wrought  by sin. Immortal she will be forever, in this world that she lives in.

Hollow soul,  Hollow eyes, Hollow lovers tell  hollow lies. Hollow words from  a hollow heart. Till hollow death,  do we part.

Intoxicating,  The eyes that pierce my soul, And cause my heart to sin. Intoxicating, The smile that lights the fire and burns my fragile skin Intoxicating, The voice that sings sweet  Lullabies to my entranced ears. Intoxicating, The arms that hold me  And calm all of my fears. Intoxicating, Ambrosial angel, her Heart wrapped all in sin. Intoxicating , Her ghost lingers deep  inside. She haunts me from  within.

Alcohol to cleanse my sin,my soul needs a savior, but the bottle is my friend It washes down all the pain,that I can’t swallow when  I’m sober ,It heals my heart ,  because I’m insane. The devil lives at the bottom of a bottle , Tells me all the lies and all the dreams that  I don’t follow. Whispers words that tell me    I’ve gone mad, He says I’ve trampled on every love that I’ve had. I need a savior, but not in a can, I don’t need a idol of glass to tell me who I am 

The scent of flowers  she wears so well. Conceals the bitter poison smell . At her gentle touch,  death awaits.

Frigid, callous, bones / heart of a winter devil / ice blooms within her

Eyes wide open, but  never been so blind, twisted manipulation  of a fragile misfit mind. Your lips, they move,  speaking many words, Your eyes they betray you,  contradicting verbs. My gaslight angel,  tell me of my sin, save me from the hell,  that you put me in.

No matter the words  that my lips portray, My heart screams  silently, I’m not ok. Every word from the  tip of my pen, is written  by monsters that  live deep within. These pages of verse, her harrowing mass. scriptures of a ghost, that’s lives in the past. I kneel at the alter, and offer my soul, to the shadow that haunts me, from so long ago.

I've always longed to be able to draw. Since I was born without such a skill, I must paint my demons with my words, and set free my nightmares with the syllables of my discontentment. Insanity is my brush and madness is the paint .

Who will I be today? A mystery, a scream, a nightmare or a dream. A fantastical demon flying on the winds of darkness? Will I close the door to the world outside? Will I  call home the corner in which I hide? Will I beg forgiveness for the bridges burned? Will the coldness grip me from the world I spurned.? I will stay in the dungeon inside my mind, Chained and broken, forever locked away by madness who hold the key.

Her eyes were gleaming  in the moonlight As her lips whispered  I love you. Her lies, so elegant as  they rode upon the wind. on this road many hearts burn.

Feelings are quite monstrous things, Swirling inside, screaming from the tip of my pen. Reverberating within my soul. Festering within the ink, Poised to provoke.

The sinister grasp. / Held hostage by my demons. / For release I pray.

Broken heart ballet / skeletons dance to her cries / rattling bone music

We keep the screams  inside of us, And just lose it in our heads. In a constant state of anxiety laying in our beds. Sometimes we hope that,  In the morning we won’t wake. The demons whispering to us, that there’s no more we can take. The devils lies are beautiful, to a heart that is broken.

What it is to be alone, to dwell inside my head, to be where my demons roam. To live inside a skin that  no one wants to touch, to find coldness in your  heart, that you missed  so much . Fading memories of  the smile that was once upon my face ,  ceasing to exist, this is my lonely place. What it is to be alone, embraced by the demons that call my head home.

She became the ink that stained the poets page. the mournful letters in  melancholy words, The prose that haunts him so. Every stroke of the poets pen, her face would haunt his mind. Verses written to remind him , that he must let her go. One day the poet will cease to write, And his ink will begin to dry. Forgetting times of such  sweet sorrow, And why his pen did cry.