Horror Poems
Lost in the Woods
by Kirsten Moreton
TW: This poem features sensitive subjects including drink spiking.
I would love some feedback on the poems, especially about how it works rhythmically and grammatically. Please note, I am aware some letters are randomly capitalised, I don't know why it has done this!
Lost in the Woods
She walked, with jingling keys clutched to her side.
With a racing heart, sweating palms and a swelling in her throat.
She stumbled through the streets as they distorted,
as they twisted and contorted.
......
When Breath Becomes Air
by beginner poet
i lay peacefully, my eyes closed amidst chaos
i hear wails, friends mourning over a great loss
rubbing my eyes , as i wake up
i have a look at myself - and i freak up!
i find my arms covered in blood & bruises
deep wounds through which blood oozes
my neck in bandages restricting breath
i try to cry,scream,run - somehow escape death!
hearing heavy steps, i look up and what i see
is a tall , black cloaked man in front of me
......
Fire & Brimstone
by Mehrannè Talebian
As I think back on what took this squandered wanderer
To the nethermost pitfalls of hell,
Only the wickedness of mere existence can be adequate enough to delineate such misery.
A brute, stuck in a trap of one’s own making
With its stone walls, one’s lament echoes through the hallow chambers,
made of anguish & possibilities.
Shadows of what has been and what could’ve been,
Dance around to the cacophony of ones regret.
But what took this wretched man,
belonging to the heights of heaven,
......
Night at the Necropolis
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Night,
Ageless and porous,
Sang screeches of fireflies of
Crescendo-diminuendo sparks.
What hour?
In the midst of the hustles, I lost my hoursight
Different, tonight, is my eyesight, seeing even
Through the darkest foliage of gentle, but sinister
Caress sway.
On the broken, cracked slabs, squatting, dark torsos!
......
Her dungeon
by aditya vats
Her ephemeral mundane attention
caress the enraged barbarian.
His fainting heart eclipsing her,
declaring hand of wraith.
Her pale cheeks almost turn
red, yet her eyes melt away,
In delightful memories of his
vicious and dubious hand.
......
My darkness.
by Steve s
And of this beast I shall devour its soul,
In shadows deep where darkened whispers roll,
With fangs of fire and a heart of stone,
I seek the essence, the marrow, the bone.
Through tangled woods where the wild winds wail,
I chase the echoes of a haunting tale,
A creature born of nightmares, fierce and bold,
Its spirit glimmers, a treasure untold.
......
When Breath Becomes Air
by beginner poet
i lay peacefully, my eyes closed amidst chaos
i hear wails, friends mourning over a great loss
rubbing my eyes , as i wake up
i have a look at myself - and i freak up!
i find my arms covered in blood & bruises
deep wounds through which blood oozes
my neck in bandages restricting breath
i try to cry,scream,run - somehow escape death!
hearing heavy steps, i look up and what i see
is a tall , black cloaked man in front of me
......
Lost in the Woods
by Kirsten Moreton
TW: This poem features sensitive subjects including drink spiking.
I would love some feedback on the poems, especially about how it works rhythmically and grammatically. Please note, I am aware some letters are randomly capitalised, I don't know why it has done this!
Lost in the Woods
She walked, with jingling keys clutched to her side.
With a racing heart, sweating palms and a swelling in her throat.
She stumbled through the streets as they distorted,
as they twisted and contorted.
......
Symbols
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Symbols come with broken drums,
Drenched feathers and hung skeletons of sun-blanched umbrellas.
Red talons define symbols —
Of encroaching deserts and flooding bloods;
Spectres of desolation haunt shadows of storm, whose limpid faces cloud
Up with derelict colours.
Rumours spread fast —
Rumours of Noah's Flood, accompanied by the laughter of
......
Fire & Brimstone
by Mehrannè Talebian
As I think back on what took this squandered wanderer
To the nethermost pitfalls of hell,
Only the wickedness of mere existence can be adequate enough to delineate such misery.
A brute, stuck in a trap of one’s own making
With its stone walls, one’s lament echoes through the hallow chambers,
made of anguish & possibilities.
Shadows of what has been and what could’ve been,
Dance around to the cacophony of ones regret.
But what took this wretched man,
belonging to the heights of heaven,
......
