All My Poems Part 5 - Jack O Lantern, The Last Fury, Light Your Flame and More
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Jack O Lantern
Jack O Lantern,
Please maintain
Thy face stern.
Hide my heartache,
Let the flame,
Keep her face.
Carve my face,
I shall smile
As you age.
Carve my face,
With your age,
Your rage.
Jack O Lantern ,
They are haunting,
They are laughing.
Let me carve,
My true face.
The Last Fury
The sands grow slow
As the last grain falls,
My broken wings
Are but barren bones.
These tears, these fears
The heart, forsaken,
Beats burning fire.
The things, forsaken,
Now awakens my ire.
I can never forgive
The seventh seal,
Making me yield,
Making me squeal.
The sinful laughter
Grows much harder,
The furies never
Retired, flying higher.
The cross now lifted,
Has made me gifted.
Light Your Flame
The same cold eyes
Makes me shiver.
I cannot stand
Your growing disdain.
My growing fear,
Has bound me.
The distance hides
Your crimson eyes,
They never warm,
They only burn.
Can I light your flame?
Can I end your game?
Growing Hollow
My eyes grow hollow,
With this sorrow,
Yesterday’s horror,
Is today’s dishonor.
Pops the Clockmaker
In the mansion above
Lives a watch maker,
In his humble abode,
Lives the clockmaker.
With his golden years,
He brings you fear.
He is Pops’ the Clockmaker.
Gazing down ,at the gathering crowd,
They scream and shout,
“There Lives Pops’ the watchmaker”
He is Pops’ the Clockmaker.
Pops the one true maker,
Bring him down,
From his tower,
From his tower.
For he is the clockmaker.
Pops the Clockmaker
<Tick, Thick, tics>
The surging years,
Are screaming tears,
The grotesque seer
Screams, “He’s here.”
<Think, slick, hicks>
He is pops thee Clockmaker
Know by all as the watchmaker.
<Tics, hicks, pits >
Cleaning gears,
Making them cheer.
<Ticks… tick >
He will grind your gears,
He will bring you fear.
<Tic… ick>
He is Pops the clockmaker!
<Tick, tics, Thick>
The empty pit grumbles,
The trembling hand struggles,
The hansom seer,
Hears, “Quiet, you queer!”
<chick, lips, licks>
He is pops, the biggest faker.
And the worst Dis’ maker
He is thee clockmaker.
<Chicks, fits, click>
He’s the undertaker,
He’s the worst test taker.
He is… the on true maker
“The watchmaker,
The undertaker,
But to you… he is the clockmaker!!!
<Thick, tic, tics>
Shaming Furies
The sun turns gray.
Oh, the foolish day,
Brings calamities
From his stupidities.
Bow, bow so low
To feel its flow.
The salty smell
Permeates this well.
Cephion pierces the sky.
These heavenly tears
Brings, so much fear.
Shame is our song,
Hear it sound.
Oh! See her hounds.
Silver Moon
The silver moon
Rises at doom,
Whispering our doom…
I wait for a tomorrow,
Without sorrow.
Must I forsaken,
What you have taken?
Death
The sun turns green
As we all scream.
Beauty and death behold,
Horrors left untold.
See the nightingales’ pain
As the King cries “again”!
The sun burns
The fragile urn,
Making the shell
Brimstone’s hell.
The scarlet eyes
Retain her lies.
Laugh again!
Cry with pain!
The bells are screaming,
The tide is turning.
Watch the blade fall
Beyond the seventh hall.
The pendulum has swung
Its final painful hum.
Morning (Night’s Shadow)
The moon waltzes
Above the starry planes.
The sun grows restless;
It burns the sky
Carving my name.
Swallow the moon,
Bring forth her doom.
Erase night’s shadow
For she makes me hollow.
Bring forth the coming day.
Light forth my path, my way.
Old
These chains pierce
The ironing flesh.
Her eyes are fierce
Beneath his mesh.
The sun grows cold,
His eyes grow old.
Their once burning fire
Now taints them with ire.
Things Ill gotten
I cannot find tomorrow,
This gripping sorrow
Brings me horror.
As the sand falls,
The sun burns these halls.
And from its ashes
Still stands tall
The last matches.
This piercing sorrow
Taints my honor,
Breaks my honor…
I cannot remember
My past ember.
These things ill gotten
Now lie forgotten.
Hear their cries
And hissing serpents.
This poor servant
Stabs you last.
No Consolation
The trembling hand falls,
Never to hold,
Never to hold…
The water grows cold.
This terrible isolation
Knows no consolation.
The Dragon and the Virgin
The Virgin shrieks
Beneath his grip.
His talons clench
As her blood drips.
The fiery furnace
Burns all assurance.
The Knight has fled,
All hope forgotten.
The burning ember
Ignites his temper.
Hear the mothers’ lamentations
Beyond the halls of salvation.
Resigned
Tired and resigned
I now reside
Beneath this plaque,
Bearing my name,
Bearing my pain.
The woe ill gotten,
But not forgotten.
The marks in my chest
Bears the sword
That stabbed me last.
Incomplete
The heart forged a new torch.
With its heat, I might defeat…
Hissing Tempest
I cannot bear
Your foolish stare,
Those crimson eyes
Right now hides…
The hissing serpent,
The coming tempest.
Things grow so cold,
As we grow old,
The old torch
Lies forgotten, rotten.
Beneath this soil,
That we now toil.
Hear it uncoil,
The hissing serpent,
The coming tempest.
These empty streets,
Hides my defeat.
I cannot rise,
My limbs, my eyes
Become stone,
Revealing the bone.
I still hear the hissing tempest.
Cope with Hope
Can we cope
With this hope,
Ill placed within
This faulty hymn.
Things (laid) forgotten,
Now (have) hardened.
Can we hope?
Can we cope?
Is this fate?
Is this hate?
My hands now tremble
Beneath this emblem.
It marks my grave.
It stains my name.
With this hope
I cannot cope.
Martyr
I cannot bear
This cross anymore!
My body, worn and tarred.
Flinches beneath his whip.
Woe stricken and fallen
Beneath my pollen.
No longer a saint,
Today I die
My final death.
His Name is Death
Despotic, Neurotic,
He brings us all, heartache.
Forget him, bend him,
We must all
Crush him.
Take the sword
And shield,
Discard it.
Raise the guns
And all our heartache.
Bring it forth,
Offer it, it’s a perfect
Sacrifice…
To make us right,
To make us ripe.
Crazy, despotic, neurotic,
He brings his goons,
He brings us doom.
Crush him, discard him!
We must raise
The song of war.
See the rivers
Burning crimson!
For he wears
The stench of death
Beneath his name.
I am too sad to Weep
Sometimes my eyes
Are so filled with sorrow
That I cannot weep.
At night their phantoms
Haunt my sleep.
If I could,
I would discard
This shell.
This suffering
I cannot tame.
Runaway Muse
Escape, sweet Muse,
Leave behind
My abuse.
Take from me
All your inspiration,
Its wasted, wasted.
Is best for you to flee,
Oh! Muse, since I lost
My will to speak.
Seek fertile grounds
Beyond this desert.
Escape, from me, Muse
Let us end, this ruse.
Obsession
His trails fade
The closer I get
To his shade.
Soon our shadows
Will become one.
This strange fascination
Knows no consolation.
My obsession grows stronger
As his eyes grow colder.
This disdain I cannot take,
Nor live with this mistake.
“Forfeit, let him go”
No!
Sins Unforgiving
Sometimes I forget
How to breathe,
Sometimes I forget
My own name.
It grows harder
And harder today
To make some
Miserable gain.
As our pockets dry
And the bread hardens.
I see them drain,
The last drop
From our veins.
Their sins cannot
Be forgiven by
The few crumbs
They throw in
Our empty plates.
Insomnia
I cannot bear this sorrow,
My nights are filled with horror
Death is calling “bliss”.
I hear the serpent hiss.
This morbid fantasy
Brings me agony.
I cannot find true repose.
I must yield to his force.
Three Sheets
Just three sheets remain.
My pockets are drained.
The final line has been crossed.
These ashy faces smile anew.
These pale faces smile their grayish ember.
The eyes are opaque,
The neck slender.
Only three sheets remain.
Why can’t it be four!
Shadowy Death
Life is but a shadow of death,
We always seek out true rest.
The shadow comforts us,
The Light blinds us.
20 yrs
My thirst knows no oasis
My weary limbs
Cannot find an open grave.
After so much struggle
I am greeted with sorrow.
I tremble at the sight
Of my own shadow.
At the end, all I find,
Just empty eyes.
Twenty years
Filled with tears,
Twenty years.
Filled with fears.
Move Forth
Did you want
To hear me
Speak again?
This heartache
Reminds me
Of your last stab.
It still bleeds.
The wound never
Seems to heal.
My heart no longer feels.
These trembling limbs
Drives me forth.
I cannot stop.
I cannot dream.
Ill repaid was
My trust in thee.
Cremation
Thinking about
The coming furnace,
My hands tremble,
These legs cannot hold me, carry me.
My Back is bent.
My eyes sunken.
This is my last song.
This tremulous voice
Will sound no more, no more.
Drowning Fate
The sinful tomorrow
Fills me with horror.
I cannot escape
This binding fate.
Currents recurrent,
The same waters
Grow colder, older.
I tried to reach the shore,
The place I was before.
I lost my hold,
Down I go, go.
End this lethargy
This lethargy
Brings me only agony.
I cannot rise,
This sinful world is no surprise.
My gaze is dimmed
By this red fog,
I cannot see
Beyond this furnace.
My endurance
Has all but left me,
Only with my failing breath.
I am tired of hiding.
I am tired of being.
Let the fire fill me with ire.
Let it harden this corpse with desire.
This lethargy,
Knows no fitting end.
Now it’s my turn to repent.
For the life I led.
It eludes me,
It escapes me.
I cannot see
Past this furnace.
Hear it burning,
Feel it turning.
Let this fire fill me with ire.
Let it harden this corpse with desire.
Let it burn my agony.
Destroy this lethargy!