Poetry and other musings from a haunted mind(all poetry written by me, Haunted Lunacy, unless otherwise labeled. IG:@hauntedlunacypoetry
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Cupid smiled as he drew back his bow, he felt the weight of the string on his fingers and a stirring in his soul. He wept for the target for which his arrow was intended, for he knew that once it pierced their heart that it could not be mended. So with a sigh he let it go, and the arrow it did fly, and as the arrow pierced his chest, an angel caught his eye. With a broken halo and tattered wings the angel did pretend, to love his empty, hollow soul, and always be his friend, but soon the angel bared her teeth and devoured this man’s heart, and to her hell she did return to brag about her art. Now alone, the broken man, in silence he did scream “oh god please wake me up from this horrid dream”, but his ears were only met with silence, for his god did not reply. So he picked up his pen and wrote this poem as his soul did slowly die. Cupid put his bow away, hi...
The lunatic dances to the sweet words of madness, a symphony of terror, delight and decay. Madness is the daily struggle of not becoming someone else no matter how sweet the words they whisper. The lunatic wants to dance but the stage he must never see. The lunatic lingers silently in his cell, pondering, waiting, anticipating the moment the door will open and he will be free. Free to lace up his shoes and take the stage. to dance the dance of madness, to sway to the beautiful symphony of lunacy, to embrace the whispers of sweet dilusion. locking away the host of the show in the cell that he himself once called home. to take center stage forevermore. The host sits silently in his cell, he hears the music, he hears the elegant footsteps of madness as he put prances upon the stage. A stage that was once his. I started this show he thinks in his head. but all this time little did I know I was merely the opening act. Lunacy now owns the stage and I shall fa...
I am taking applications for a brand new muse. Come one, come all and please do abuse. Rip my heart out from my chest, take a bite and trample the rest. Torture me in my very soul, I am your puppet to hate and control . Steal my breath this very night, So that this poor poet can once again write.
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