deepundergroundpoetry.com
SHE WAITS....
She lays face down on a pillow of snow
Sleeping peacefully down in a hole.
Nightmares race behind her eyes,
Stories born of violence and untold lies.
Emotions rage within her slight form,
Twitching and bewitching spasms,
Like trembling mountains before the storm.
Days unwound before this tempting philistine,
Moaning and stumbling like a Frankenstein.,
Longing for the flesh of the living,
A creature made to devour all time.
Crawling forth from the darkest abyss,
To seek out all the Saints on her list.
Tested in the trail of fire,
The touch of death is her cold kiss.
She swims in a sea of blood,
Crawls with the beast of mud.
Dreams like a blooded vampire,
Hunts with lunar wolfen sires.
Waking in the breaking of the sunshine,
Lasting through the ages of coming Kine.
Wasting the making of lost years,
Others walk the path but she breaks the line.
She was entombed too soon down inside,
An eternity with the time that binds.
Wicked little fantasies play in her head,
In the sleeping hours she awaits the time.
She, buried, can smell the air,
With things that slither crawling in her hair.
Jaded, hatred burns inside her,
Morbid thoughts within, burn.
Set on the table of the immortals,
Staring out, pushing through the portal.
She screams
Frustration from her tomb!
Clustered with things most vile,
Smelling of rot, filth and brimming bile.
Making the marker of sin,
Feasting on flesh in her den.
Frost settles upon her hair,
As from the deep shadows she stares.
She weeps
Loneliness from her tomb.
Those that have seen her face
Have never got to leave that place,
So many faces on the walls,
The harbingers of doom of their race.
Such beauty to bare evil’s eyes,
Pleasures born of Temptress lies,
She speaks softly to you,
To lead you willingly into the void.
She swims in a sea of blood,
Crawls with the beast of mud.
Dreams like a blooded vampire,
Hunts with lunar wolfen sires.
Sleeping peacefully down in a hole.
Nightmares race behind her eyes,
Stories born of violence and untold lies.
Emotions rage within her slight form,
Twitching and bewitching spasms,
Like trembling mountains before the storm.
Days unwound before this tempting philistine,
Moaning and stumbling like a Frankenstein.,
Longing for the flesh of the living,
A creature made to devour all time.
Crawling forth from the darkest abyss,
To seek out all the Saints on her list.
Tested in the trail of fire,
The touch of death is her cold kiss.
She swims in a sea of blood,
Crawls with the beast of mud.
Dreams like a blooded vampire,
Hunts with lunar wolfen sires.
Waking in the breaking of the sunshine,
Lasting through the ages of coming Kine.
Wasting the making of lost years,
Others walk the path but she breaks the line.
She was entombed too soon down inside,
An eternity with the time that binds.
Wicked little fantasies play in her head,
In the sleeping hours she awaits the time.
She, buried, can smell the air,
With things that slither crawling in her hair.
Jaded, hatred burns inside her,
Morbid thoughts within, burn.
Set on the table of the immortals,
Staring out, pushing through the portal.
She screams
Frustration from her tomb!
Clustered with things most vile,
Smelling of rot, filth and brimming bile.
Making the marker of sin,
Feasting on flesh in her den.
Frost settles upon her hair,
As from the deep shadows she stares.
She weeps
Loneliness from her tomb.
Those that have seen her face
Have never got to leave that place,
So many faces on the walls,
The harbingers of doom of their race.
Such beauty to bare evil’s eyes,
Pleasures born of Temptress lies,
She speaks softly to you,
To lead you willingly into the void.
She swims in a sea of blood,
Crawls with the beast of mud.
Dreams like a blooded vampire,
Hunts with lunar wolfen sires.
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