A Murderer's Confessions

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a collection of horror poems that we wrote. Enjoy!

Submitted: January 28, 2015

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Submitted: January 28, 2015

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They live in darkness

You can’t see them

They are invisible, unseeable

They can be felt, but are veiled by the air

Breath fumes from their nostrils, heating your skin

You turn, but nothing there

A fusillade of whispers charges your ears

You turn, but nothing there

Their hands push at you

They claw at your rubicund, exhausted face

A malign, maniacal laugh erupts from their mouths,

guffawing of your risible thoughts

You trace the noise but nothing is there

Avaricious susurrations chill your bones,

greedy for your pleasant memories

You feel the frights, but nothing there

They raise a hand, nightmares pervade your brain

Gaiety is only ephemeral

You feel, but nothing there

Screams erupt in your ears,

each followed by a cackle

Your hands appear to move, simultaneously

maneuvering idiosyncratically

You feel the force, but nothing there

The martinet controls your body

Your mouth moves but doesn’t speak

Your caste of strength cannot withstand theirs

They possess immortal power

This is the disease no panacea can cure

The plague of fear

 

A Murderer’s Confessions

By Siji Smolev and Ben Volokh







 

Table of Contents.

 

Death of an Idol ………………………………………………………………………….... 3

 

Nightmare ………………………………………………………………………………..... 4

 

Fate ………………………………………………………………………………………....5

 

The Demonic Night ………………………………………………………………………...6

 

Darkness …………………………………………………………………………………....7

 

Abomination of Enlightenment …………………………………………………………....8

 

Catastrophic Realm ………………………………………………………………………....9

 

Epiphany of Human Blight ..……………………………………………………………....10

 

Virtue of a Warlock ...……………………………………………………………………..11

 

Enchanted Oracle ………………………………………………………………………….12

 

Old Hallow’s Eve ...……………………………………………………………………….13

 

Dawn of Affliction ……………………………………………………………………….. 14

 

Armaggedon………………………………………………………………………………...15

 

Farewell Forever…………………………………………………………………………………16











 

Death of an Idol

Light gleamed from the corpse,

of a fallen god that rest in peace

No shrine so tranquil

No uprise so savage

Of no glory was the scheme of life,

For the god of the heavens,

Of all mortal dreams,

Was dead

His bloody essence trickled down

His tomb

Standing in the silence of hate,

In the silence of heroism,

Once empowering,

Now forgotten

His divine presence only preserved

In the absence of his mortal prowess

His bloody trophies,

Once at his throne,

Now in his neglected dreams

Inevitable despair shocked the world

For the idol

Of the meaning of life
















 

Nightmare

The victim stood in a pool of blood

Crying mortal tears

Speechless she stood

in an ebony room covered

in a veil of death

The distinct growing light shown

The light of a gleaming grin

Laughing maniacally,

A devilish man

A bloodstained knife at the grip

of his gnarled hand

prepared to pierce your soul

Destiny was lost

Pain was present throughout

the inevitable moment

of blood-soaked death




















 

Fate

The rusty, warped gate creaks as you amble forward

The wind howls in the forgotten cemetery, crisp and acute, knifing the graves

A hushed drizzle slaloms down overgrown vines

A whitened, waning moon hangs in the ebony night,

Peaking out from behind the clouds, knowing what will occur

Lightning illuminates a sepulcher, silver epitaph stating: “Expiry”,

Wails pervade from inside, the sound of enthralled sorrow

The silhouette of an abhorrent figure, flashing behind the trees,

Perilous hands, reaching out for you,

its eyes engulf you

Repugnant, flesh soaked legs charge you

Too quick to move. Too quick to escape

Hands incarcerate you, imprison your shoulders

Sparkling flames appear, despite the rain's presence, dancing a morbid masquerade

A maniacal laugh rings, drawn from his distorted mouth

The sound permeates the air, travels

A chill of terror grips your neck,

there you stand, your back against the tomb

at your grave, trapped,

anticipating your rotting skull

Human termination accompanies



















 

The Demonic Night

The graveyard menaced in a typhoid stench

The howls of mortal pain echoed through the wind

A cutting sound in an ebony sky

of no forgiveness

The tombs rumbled to the sound

of the people buried alive

The graveyard spiders crept through the labyrinth

of trapped cadavers

Their webs of blood and silk

spinning a nightmare

enclosing the world in mortal terror

A black tome stood erected in the burial slot,

of the feared witch that crept through the wind

every mortal heard the chill

of her rags and chains dragging along

the barren floor

But nobody but her victims met her fiendish gaze

The squelch of putrid blood drifted into

the underworld realms

of the rising souls

barren was the graveyard

except for the grave,

the demonic tomb


















 

Darkness

Darkness

is tangible,

upon a barren hill,

Standing on a

marooned island,

Stranded in the middle

of an azure plateau

Though the sparkling

water below

is blinded by an ebony

penetrating

Through the thick air

The hill is vacant

of verdure

A mud road, recently watered

by broken tears

leads up winding to the apex of its bearer,

its manner not much more desperate

than that of its surroundings.

Fog is like a coat,

trapping the island inside,

obstructing sights.

Moanings melt happiness

Screams screech

A glint of a blade pierces the

purity of blackness

Blood is the only thing that shines out

from the cloud of despair,

Darkness

embraces death

Paves souls with gore,

An air of massacre










 

Abomination of Enlightenment

The devil stood at the steps of his throne

Dreams of pain and sorrow

Serpentine eyes gazed upon

The mausoleum of his fallen followers

His sanguine executions

Be gone the morals of reality,

His prized revelation

Of unleashed terror,

He feasts upon the joy

Of the loss of others

No soul dare challenge

His might

The glory of all enlightenment

Was doomed




























 

Catastrophic Realm

An obol of heroism

Acquired by masters of endless prowess

Unrestrained audacity

Dead spirits morphs to heroes of revelry,

Spewing riots across the plains of existence

No madness can be contained

For the lid of insanity has been opened

Intangible mystery climbs

To the peaks of Olympus

The realm stands in chaos

Silence dissipates throughout

The capsule of mortality,

Catastrophe forever

Possessing the realm
 





























 

Epiphany of Human Blight

Eternity lies in the hands

Of a forever dissolving spiral,

Disintegrating into oblivion...

The last breath of humanity

is faceless

its ever-dying moment approaching,

As the unbearable pain

dominates existence

No fate rests in the desired hands

A column of flame scorches dreams,

banishing them to a terminating realm

where Satan’s horns pierce them,

where blood refuses to flow

for perpetuity trapped,

A manifestation of

Human blight




























 

Virtue of a Warlock

A smith lie down an arsenal of crafts,

From the impalpable icons of the gods

A warrior lie before his bloodstained sword,

The overseer of life and death

The legend sparks a destiny,

Animated from charms of intrepidity

In one figure, this shapeshifter stood at the foot,

Of the obelisk of eternal power

Visible vitality illuminated from the enchanted

Prophecy spoke the puzzle of a new Exodus

The legend’s quest for power

will lead to a spur of unleashed spirits

But he held on his back the angel and honor

Of all glory was unbearable by devilish cruelty

No certain path lay way to death,

None to victory either

The superior heart of the warlock demanded

the encounter of true power

The defiance of his men,

Of his long-feared army

Faced by long odds, they marched

through the cyclones of wrath,

Until meeting the devil himself,

the Seraph on the grasps of victory

Apocalypse was dissipated

Virtue was restored


















 

Enchanted Oracle

Faint words of sagacity

Howling tales of a reality

A spoken prophet,

Outwitted by an eradication

Put to a death sequel,

For only words decided that

Words of neither love nor hate

neither justice nor cruelty

neither heroism nor fear

The enchanted being stood with a knife in her image

At the foot of her very own grave

Killed not because her sayings were deceitful,

But because they were true

The enchantment was to die

And with it

The entirety of humanity




























 

Old Hallow’s Eve

Bats’ wings darker than

darkness

Daggered skulls paler than

a gleaming sword

Encased in a coveted sheath,

A bow and five bloody arrows,

Striking fatality at his call

Disdain menaced through a volatile haze

Cracking the inevitable,

The dreaded eve,

Old Hallow’s Eve

The shattered bones once flooded

in blood of despair

Rise in gleaming form

Of a spiritual demise

Phenomena in its chilling rage

Spitting flesh of power and hatred

Joining hands with spirits,

Adhere to the path of a desired death

A scene unbearable for reality to obey

The ghastly afterlife and all of whom desire,

Revel at dusk till every soul a corpse

Dawn brings a mourning people,

The mourning victims,

The future of Old Hallow’s Eve



















 

Dawn of Affliction

Surge of fury

Cackle of a demon

Mourn of a corpse

Possessed by a phantasm,

Of screams and terrors

A light before you,

Far in the depths of your illusion

Behind you,

A radiating image,

A felon you were in your mirage

The rise of each mirage

A chill spurs in your fate

A pause in your horror

Restoration of your agony

It has just begun





























 

Armageddon

Souls ignite around you

Ash lays at the heart of an illusion,

Now at the hands of reality

As if a rogue had banished you

A misleading fortune had shamed you,

It resembled your last words,

Your last breath
Your mind is too feeble

To comprehend

You are a necromancer,

It is your zenith of power,

Stabbing you in the back

It is your glorious trophy,

In the hands of your worst enemy

Dread incarnated,

Anticipating your burning tomb,

Fleeing the hands of the inevitable,

All is lost


























 

Farewell Forever

Farewell forever,

the candles of an existence

have been blown out,

the scythe has been seen,

the cries of necrosis-struck

organs have been heard,

a grave has been dug–

the work of Lucifer,

Judgement Day has come,

the string has been cut,

an expired soul--

its psyche has been drained,

Farewell forever















 


 




 


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