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Something Wicked, This Way Comes!

Poetry By: Alain Lee

This is a depiction of my nightmarish encounters, deep down superstitions will run free and nothing will escape us from the rush of Adrenaline and Fear. hope you'll enjoy it, comment too if possible. Thanks a bunch! :D

Submitted:Apr 17, 2011    Reads: 1,393    Comments: 12    Likes: 7   

Something Wicked, This Way Comes!

Howls are thy mere illusions

Those trickling blood by thy side, warm

Whose is it? Thy head shaketh with innocence

Tell me nothing more, dearest

Changes, darkest night are longest at times

Creeping us, sideways and up Front!

Heart felt, horror was none taken

Adrenaline is my soulmate now, beware thee!

Crude apparitions which hovering above thee

Whispering things that should not be

Trust is crucial, yet none for this matter

Enlighten me with thy stories, of the Old World

Where trees grew scarce, yet taller than the Sun

Winds are kept murderous, chill to thy Bones!

Thy heartbeat is bewildering, riling inside thee

Stop! Maketh sense of this, ma chérie

Scared? No, that ain't me

What glistening fangs thee have, whispers me.

Thy pupils, oh so Great and Wild!

Thy biceps, shredding me to pieces of no such Difficulties

I learnt the hard way, of thy Beauty

Nature has its own course, Magnetic and sombre

Judging thee, may I not be

Special thee is, for me and Forever more

Haunting tales, midwives jokes they are!

Kill me this very moment?

Why not of yesteryears? Too late now.

Stronger and Faster, am I comapred to thee

Toying around, of no utmost importance

Shrilling laughters, heard thee not?

Slaughter thy own emotions, please Love!

Witches of Great Tress, wandering for souls

Wait, thy eyes showed mercy for them

Ghouls of the Earth roaming free outside

It calmed me more, decapitation of thy Mind!

Serious intentions of Evil bravados, stupid!

Never thee bother, changeling you must

Full Moon or of the accursed Sun?

Neither, so scrape my skin instead

Away from thy Monstrosity, or Humanity

Both are worthless, pointy ears of thee

Listen to me, for Repetition it may never be!

Gasping for air, thy throat on my claws

Murder and mayhem, an overrated exaggeration

Sacred no more, this unholy alliance

Kill thee now, that I Muster now

Freed souls slapping me with Agony

Alone, I am as always without thee

Thy curses are a remedy for mine, always.


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