a few of my favorite self-composed titles from Descent into the Dark (aka book 1)... in no particular order:
Fell
Within this broken heart of mine
lies a prison of my own design.
I've lost my will and my mind.
There is no freedom—not this time.
Broken pieces falling fast
inside these walls of shattered glass.
In my prison—confined to hell,
I caused all this the moment I fell.
***
DNA
they don't understand
what they've unleashed.
now i am beyond help
and out of reach.
i can be quiet violence
or soft and sweet,
but just because i'm suffering,
doesn't mean i'm weak.
i can't comprehend
what i've become.
i am the chaos
just look what they've begun.
***
It is I, the Devil
I can be passion
and paradise.
Sweet like candy,
sugar and spice.
That's when I'm happy,
but when I'm not—
I am the devil,
known as Sprott.
I can be naughty
or I can be nice.
Whether I'm impulsive,
or if I think twice.
I can be an angel,
but I'd rather not.
I am the devil,
known as Sprott.
I can be enchanting
and rather haunting,
but I prefer to bring chaos
and to be daunting.
I'll turn out to be
nothing like you thought.
I am the devil,
known as Sprott.
***
Descent into the Dark
I'm cloaked by the shadows of the demons in my soul.
They hide in the valleys with the light that they have stole,
as I walk in the darkness of the void that makes me whole.
Wondering when Surrender comes if my white flag will fly,
as I wait for this moment like I've waited my whole life.
But freedom from this torment won't come freely when I die.
Condemned to spend eternity suffering with the Damned.
No hope for survival, for I am dead where I stand.
Yet still fearing exile, because this is what I am.
***
Vixen
I have ways
far more intense,
my safety lies
in my defense.
And as for your
restitution,
I have come
to this solution.
With your soul
and blood you'll pay,
from now until
your dying day.
For, what a vixen
I've become.
You cannot stop
what you've begun.
***
Hell
I'm a burning devil in soft angel's skin—
my glittering halo concealing my sins.
Singing songs in silvery tones
only on the inside, I'm dark and alone.
Quietly sitting beneath my fiery wings,
yet, sorrow and torment are all that I bring.
Beautiful visions—other angels on clouds,
but this place isn't heaven when no one's around.
***
Bottle Dance
"I want to stay away, but I know that I can't",
I think to myself, almost in a trance,
as I watch that wretched bottle dance.
I watch its horrid spins and turns—
my soul tormented as desire burns.
For one more drink my poor heart yearns.
I've never desired anything more
not a lover's embrace, or a million dollars,
not the territories of kings, or the knowledge of scholars.
My soul, my soul for just one drink.
***
Waiting
Beneath this veil of tears
lies something devastating.
Like a killer in a movie,
I am just waiting.
Their victims running
as they're slowly stalked.
Relentlessly pursuing—
still, the killer walks.
My past, my present, my future,
a dangerous alliance.
You are too easily fooled
by my sorrowful silence.
Beneath this veil of tears
something evil burns.
Like a victim in a movie—
you, too, will have your turn.
***
My Grandfather, My Hero
I'll never have
a truer friend
or ever know
a better man.
When no one else
could understand,
Grandpa could
as only he can.
My Grandpa, my hero,
a protector from pain.
He is so much to me,
yet, rarely complains.
Wise and patient
and ever-forgiving,
a life without Grandpa
would scarcely be worth living.
When it feels like
I'm against the world,
I remember I'm Grandpa's Pumpkin,
his little girl.
***
The House That I Never Grew Up In
There was no playing, no games to win.
For, this is the house I never grew up in.
There was no peeking to see what Santa brought.
And there are a thousand fights that have yet to be fought.
No games of hide-and-seek to win,
no playing in the rain, or any sleeping in.
No clothes being washed, or any floors to mop.
No dates at the door, or any friends to stop.
I love the house, but no memories I fear.
There is no joy—no family lives here.
No smiling, no crying, no laughter within.
For, this is the house that I never grew up in.
***
Daddy
Father yells and Mother cries,
as he blackens both her eyes.
No one acts like they're surprised
and Mother has stopped wondering why.
Is it our fault? Born into this.
This can't be what real love is—
to yell at, beat and resent your own kids,
to punish them with shoes and fists.
We've been forced to grow up this way,
called names and hit everyday,
never understanding why Mom stays.
Survival was hard, but still we prayed.
Suffering torment we can't comprehend,
begging God for this to end,
save our souls so we can mend.
Still, tortured time and time again.
***
Sin
Children shouldn't suffer
for the sins of their parents,
but there is no way
that I could have been spared this.
I am tormented
and my soul is rather torn—
they never would have married
if I'd never had been born.
I am the sin of my parents—
a walking wrong.
I am paying now
and I will my whole life long.
My every breath is an insult
to all things holy.
They don't think I know,
but I understand this fully.
Neither of my parents
had sense enough to walk away.
Now I am living proof
that even God makes mistakes.
***
Twisted Lullaby
"As sure as the light of the silvery moon,
your father, my dear, will be home soon.
So shut your mouth and go to sleep,
don't dare cry, don't make a peep.
Remember to tell him you love him or you'll die",
Mother sings her twisted lullaby.
"Wish for mercy, pray for death,
await the day he ceases breath.
He'll wake you up at three in the morning
to beat you senseless without warning.
It doesn't matter how still you lie",
Mother sings her twisted lullaby.
"Act normal—though your pain is deep.
I'll get him a beer, you feign sleep.
When you wake you'll be all grown up,
you'll forget this nightmare—enough is enough."
Now I'm cold and unforgiving and I don't know why
Mother sang me her twisted lullaby.
***
Walnut Ridge
Grandmother, Ya-ya, dressed in gray
I will remember you this way:
I will think of you like I did as a child—
your door always open, your disposition mild.
Visiting you on the weekends or in the summertime,
sometimes we'd put on plays for you or just furniture climb.
The scent of your house made us feel safe.
I will always remember the way
first we vacationed, then in we moved,
oh, the fortitude that proved.
There are things I wanted to tell you—now it's too late.
I will never have the chance—we buried you today.
***
Wow! VERY good indeed! :glasses2:
(it was all written between 1993 and 2003... early works, for the most part.)
Fell
Within this broken heart of mine
lies a prison of my own design.
I've lost my will and my mind.
There is no freedom—not this time.
Broken pieces falling fast
inside these walls of shattered glass.
In my prison—confined to hell,
I caused all this the moment I fell.
It's talking to me! Keep 'em coming....
Waiting
Beneath this veil of tears
lies something devastating.
Like a killer in a movie,
I am just waiting.
Their victims running
as they're slowly stalked.
Relentlessly pursuing—
still, the killer walks.
My past, my present, my future,
a dangerous alliance.
You are too easily fooled
by my sorrowful silence.
Beneath this veil of tears
something evil burns.
Like a victim in a movie—
you, too, will have your turn.
***
Reality........keep 'em coming gal!
thankx so much for the reads!
Thanks for sharing. :smile: