#horrorpoem

[jackblankhsh]

The Yellow King’s Executioner

I planted myself Where Carcosa shows. I lost my mind, But I found my soul. Shrouded in the hollow I let the Yellow King hallow The future I'd grow.

Hearing Cassilda's song I thought nothing wrong. In the court of the dragon I found a welcome wagon, Where whispers set a task, I donned their mask, And finished transformation To repairer of reputation -- This is my destined destination.

Feeling fine I embraced the yellow sign -- Floating over the line. At first A hesitant tensing. This isn't murder It's cleansing. But soon no need For any defensing. Raised my knife, and unlike Lot's wife I never looked back.

I'm sure the papers will subtract The fact of the attack, Claiming Serial kills occur And say nothing Of the king's executioner.

[btk-lyrics]

Diary of a Mad Scientist 32

The process is similar in every way to our previous procedures. The transference of consciousness is an awe inspiring experience. My first venture into the cosmos and the furthest recesses of the human mind was cut rather short and I had little time to truly experience it. This second time I am more prepared, more braced for the expedition. Though, my brief stint in this other-worldly plane left me immobile and with no control of myself. I am more aware of it though. I will go with open eyes and a conscious ready. "Flip the switch, Henry!" I exclaimed, while bound to the operating table. I look over to Anastasia who is watching, dutifully, from a safe distance. "See you soon, my dear." As I rise, the crackle of lightning above fills my ears. A cacophonous sound as when you throw water on searing oil. Before the event begins I am greeted with a wondrous cloud filled darkness. With pockets of light like miniature aurorae of white violence. The fear of being struck by a stray bolt of lightning thrills me. Excites my every sense. Then the bolt comes. It blinds my eyes as it strikes. Though not me, it strikes the lightning rod that powers my device. Power surges through the cabling and down to the mechanisms that will eventually take my mind and shift it over to the cloned body. I feel a slight tug at the back of my head, though I know there is no mechanical instrument with that duty on my invention. For the briefest of moments, with full clarity, I experience death. Nothingness. Then comes, the planes of existence that no other man has yet to experience. First comes a flash of light I feel as though blinded but it is just infinite white Though I feel a body, I am overlight I feel no other sense besides sight My consciousness is pulled Endless colors where once white ruled Kaleidoscope colors sit in pools They come towards me but I am fooled I fear collision I attempt to cease my vision Though I know it's all illusion But the sights will not be denied intrusion I am then greeted with intense pain As I am shattered like stained glass panes I do not like this plane I do not like this plane I feel like my mind will go insane I can't remain Let it wane I am wrenched down. What I believe to be down. As though waking from a thrilling dream, reality sets in around me. I am now in my body. The cloned being on the opposite end of my contraption. I am he, he is now I. I could feel a coolness to my body, as though within an icebox, but it ever so slowly ebbs away and I feel the sheet that lies upon me. I've yet to open my eyes, the lids feel heavy and I feel an exhaustion that hinders their movement. The fizz and cracks and pops of the storm above soon increase in volume. As I am lowered, the sounds are muffled and the sensation of their being above me enters my mind. Spatial recognition. "Victor!" Her sweet voice! How can it be that it sounds so much more pleasant upon these ears? "Open your eyes, Victor." My god, even his voice is less grating upon my faculties. A deep, rumbling tone from Henry. "Open your eyes, Doctor." I open my eyes.

[boxofteethrpg-blog]

Ballad of Aces & Eights

Forged with a lunger's blood and hate,

Made for killing failed friends.

Many lives it did desecrate,

For me it now condemns.

Cold, hungry, this eight-chambered heart.

Just need one to ace ya.

So ante up, cowboy, let's start,

Play the hand fate dealt ya.

The Black Queen watches from the stairs.

She won't weep as you bleed.

Suicide King won't hear yer prayers,

But he'll follow yer lead.

Now Laughing Boy, here is yer end

Borne on banshees wailing.

Spitting white-hot lead that will rend,

‘Cause Death be unfailing.

Carried to the Devil's Bedpost,

Nobody will mourn ya,

Nor care about yer damn fool ghost.

Last I'm gonna warn ya.

Bang! That's a kidney.

Bang! That's a liver.

Bang! Ya ain't even hit me.

To Hell I do deliver.

Still got five nails left, ya bastards,

Chair's free if you’re in.

Let your lives end in disasters,

Time to reap all yer sin.

Bang! That’s yer brother.

Bang! That’s yer best friend.

Bang! Hah! Down goes another.

May this fine bloodshed never end.

The acrid gun smoke slowly clears.

Two bullets to yer six.

Son, do you want to see yer years,

or float in River Styx?

Bang!

[boxofteethrpg-blog]

Strixly Speaking

Yellowed hay bails squat in the field,

These moldering megaliths.

Where Stolas' kingdom is concealed,

Brewing fiendish mephitis.

He holds court on cottonwood limbs

Framing his well-gleaned demesne

Horned devils sing questioning hymns;

Same word again and again

The Prince perches atop the barn

His talons etching grayed wood.

Head revolving, he reads a yarn

Told by pale stars, nothing good.

Hateful is the cosmos

Negligent is its God

Vile is its harmony

Hell's feathered courtiers fall hush

Silence crawls across the farms

Rabbits hide in the sagebrush

Grandmothers grip warding charms

A victim's name the Prince proclaims

His ill coterie takes wing

Vermin burrow deep in spoiled grains

All fear the ruin the fiends bring

Across sleeping farms, they spread to

Track housing and trailer parks

Above bars and brothels, they flew

Old neon signs giving off sparks

Rotten is the city

Wicked are its people

Ripened is their despair

Ancient Romans called them striges

Carriers of potent poison

Spread by their far-echoing screeches

Used to frighten their foison

A stray clerk strolling after dark

Swallowed by cacophony

Rent by talon in old Oat’s park

Their soul devoured monstrously

No pellets will ever be found

No trace of what the imps slew

Ask when the prey will be around

Their family will answer... "Who?"

[boxofteethrpg-blog]

Ragtown

Erected on the edge o’ arid scrubland

Where the last drop o’ clean water flows.

A place of miners, madmen, n’ stops unplanned

This town of rags, gleaned wood, n’ shadows.

Many pioneers choose to slay their wagons

Rather than waste across forty miles

So dry you’d drink death by the gallons

Before you’d find water amid its trials.

Bet your bottom dollar ain't no better here.

Oh, Oblivion, she'll still find you.

Be it knife, booze, or an end most queer,

Folks always give the Devil his due

So pull up a patch of dirt, sorrow, n’ grime.

Ignore things inhuman you might spy.

For the hungering ones been here quite some time

Since they fell like comets from the sky.

Trust me, they ain't the worst landlords you might find.

Hell, these days they look like you n’ me.

Sometimes their mask slips showing what God maligned.

Jus’ play ignorant n’ pay their fee.

Happy to call you neighbor, friend.

Don't suppose you have teeth to lend?

Rent’s due, you see.

[boxofteethrpg-blog]

The Crown of Corroded Thorns

Rustin’ barbs n’ dry-rotted wood,

Don’t hold nothin’ but dead dreams.

Fields don't stay fallow like they should,

Givin' crops o’ bones n' screams.

Coyote here, jack rabbit there.

his ma, she's sewn everywhere.

Grew too close to the neighbors' heir,

Rat poison solved that affair.

The little boy makes chicken claws dance,

Murmurs dead words while severed limbs prance.

A collapsed barn houses spiders.

Soured hearts house shared misery.

Wary o’ kindly outsiders,

Naive o’ the witchery.

Evil as stubborn as salt grass.

Old as the first farmer's mark.

Booze, grease, n’ tears streak ranch house glass,

Hounds dead, but you hear ‘em bark.

The young man makes young ladies' heads turn,

Demons ride their bodies, their souls burn.

God forgot to finish this land,

That's what the song they sing say.

Ol’ Scratch though, he offers his hand,

He teaches folks how to prey.

The Good Book gone ‘n been replaced,

By one o’ dust, blood, ‘n pride.

But hell, this land can’t be debased,

Deep in sin, we do abide.

The grown man takes a fair wife, ain’t his,

Teaches sinful ways by catechize.

Hoof marks scorched in unhallowed sand,

Stricken trees loom over scrub.

All the flies are his to command,

The blessing of Beelzebub.

In the high desert, best forgot,

Squats a little slice of hell

Trespass if you want - don't get caught,

Your blood will feed its dry well

The old man puts children in the ground,

With a wicked harvest, he be crowned.

With the barbed wire 'round his head,

You best bet, he’ll never be dead.

[humanbirdscreams]

You’ve never been here before.

It dawns on you as you walk the same path you always have through the woods out the back of the school yard.

It was sunny when you left.

You’ve walked this trail 1000 times before on the way to your mothers house.

It’s never taken this long.

You saw rabbits just a minute ago. Where did they go?

Why can’t you find the indentation of their paws in the grass.

What happened to the sun?

The sky is bright and clear.

There was a dog wood tree around that corner.

Now there is nothing.

Nothing at all.

As you look out there are no animals.

No birds in the wind.

There is no wind.

The pine trees are the same.

The trail is worn and harder to see as you walk it.

The trees are all the same.

Today in school you saw a doe walk into the woods.

Where did she go?

The path is gone.

You were here yesterday.

The trees are all the same.

When did they all become the same.

What happened to the sun?

The sky is darkening.

Why are the the trees the same?

You were here yesterday.

There is nothing.

There are no woods she told you today before school.

“There are no woods between the school and the house. Just a open prairie,”.

Why are all the trees the same?

Where are the animals?

There is no wind.

Where is the sun?

What happened to the path?

You walked this path yesterday.

The woods don’t exist.

You step out onto the pavement.

You look back.

A prairie.

You had never been there before.

You will never be there again.

-A creepy poem like thing I just wrote and I honestly creeped myself out so have a nice taste of my particular brand of horror.

[theartofadarkmind0187-blog]

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