Apocalypse Island/ExcerptThe moon lit up the camp as the man slept lightly, always remaining vigil. He had chosen to remain on his own, ever since the beginning of the undead apocalypse. He had always been somewhat of a loner. He had no wife, no family to speak of on the island. He thought to himself, amidst the chaos of the unravelling of society that he ought to remain alone, and out of sight of the military. For the military, during this time, was acting on its own behalf. No orders from Washington, no higher ups, no red tape, no morals to distract them from their task at hand. The military's only perspective was to eliminate the threat of the undead and other survivors alike. Mass murders occurred at the points of their weapons. Selfishly hoarding any and all supplies they could find, to ensure their own survival they pried weapons, food, water and ammo out of their victim's lifeless hands. The light from the small camp fire slowly faded as the fire dwindled and fell to ashes.
A Violent MaelstromA Violent MaelstromA Violent Maelstrom1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
It's written in blood, and chiselled in stone.
Raped from the land, man once called home.
Doomed by apocalyptic prophecy, Chaos reigns with anarchy.
Pandemic leads to quarantine, steadily unravelling society.
These revelations, of devastation, and starvation leaves all nations
Spilling blood for resources, but revenge follows its sources.
Man will become overrun by this maelstrom.
Man will become overrun by this maelstrom.
The DirtPeople go their whole lives without moving more than the dirt their buried under, rotting in endless droves, shovelling their graves.The Dirt1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
They dig with bloody splintered hands, and kiss regret with the tip of their shovels.
I can hear their screams, their muffled. I can hear them suffer, bleeding.
Dig no less than six feet under.
God said to me that their not worth my air, Satan then chimed the funeral bell.
God replied to me that he doesn't care, bury them six feet closer to hell.
People go their whole lives without moving more than the dirt their buried under, rotting in endless droves shovelling their graves.
Our Dire FateA world condemned to a dire fateOur Dire Fate1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Putrid corpses, forgotten forces of death and destruction, risen to destroy.
Ripping away, and tearing decay, from what is left, of humanity.
Spreading forward to consume it all, foundations destined to fall, upon us all.
Ripping away, and tearing decay from what is left of humanity.
No way, to delay, this decay, no replay.
Dead HorizonsDeep in a nightmare of sleep, his boney finger twitched rapidly and grazed over the trigger of his double barrelled shotgun. He was suddenly ripped out of sleep as the deafening shotgun round was discharged, narrowly missing his head. As he gathered his thoughts, he realized he had fallen asleep on the rooftop balcony. With hunger biting at his stomach, he gradually brought himself to his feet and scanned the morning horizon, as he had done countless times before. The pounding on the rooftop door began almost immediately, and quickly grew unnerving. His body turned cold, and felt as if it were shutting down. He then retreated into his den and collapsed near the threshold. Unknown to him, this particular sunrise would be his last.Dead Horizons1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
He was awoken by a sharp, thumping pain in his stomach. He slowly reached for a bottle of what was left of his murky rain water. He took the last sip of the life giving substance and wet his dry, chapped lips. All the joints in his body cracked and popped as h
Dead Horizons/Excerpt"The End It brings with it the beginning of a world without sin!Dead Horizons/Excerpt1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
A world without judgement or religion! No forms of government! No egos to please! No false idols to worship!
For these beliefs, morals, and values die with the men that create them!"
Apocalypse Island/Excerpt IIThe man suddenly heard slow, lumbering footsteps approaching his vicinity. He laid down his pack and shouldered his crossbow. The man carefully scanned the jungle for any signs of the undead. He could smell a mixture of decaying flesh and feces in the air. He then spotted an undead male, no more than 18 years old, shuffling towards him. He had numerous bullet wounds scattered over his torso, and a shotgun wound revealed his insides. Blood stained his face and neck and tainted his already soiled clothing. The man carefully advanced for a better shot. The undead's eyes were sunken in and glazed over with a blue-moon hue. His lips snarled as he drew closer, revealing pieces of rotted meat stuck in his teeth. The man got within 20 feet of his target and steadied his crossbow, aiming directly at the forehead of the undead. He pulled the trigger, releasing the bolt and this tortured soul from his nightmare of gluttonous hunger.Apocalypse Island/Excerpt II1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Dead HorizonsA new short story i am currently working on will be submitted soon! I can't wait to unveil it!Dead Horizons1 year ago in Personal More Like This
SilkwormA slave, a product, bredSilkworm1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
only to produce
My metamorphosis is
egg, larvae, pupa, dead
No wings, no skin to ever shed
I am incomplete
Day and night
I keep spinning my thread
In my dreams, my wings are spread
I rest peacefully
on a flower bed
And behind me is a cocoon shread
Pride and Acceptance ?They loathe me;Pride and Acceptance ?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
they shout the worst words
(the kind that encircle you like flies; relentless) -
burning, scathing words.
It doesn't matter. I don't care what anybody else says.
I am alone, shunned.
I curl up in the wastelands
of something I once recognised
as my most intimate identity,
but now feels foreign and outlandish;
They're just words. I don't have to let them get to me.
I am proud.I don't need anyone elseto accept me;I accept myself.