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Greetings. Here there are demons
As this is my website, I feel I have a right to bombard you with my own attempts at poetry aswell as the stuff sent to me
You don't have to read it, you can even hate it, but I like some of it, so I thought I would share
E.V.Willcox
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When the moon sinks,
before the sun rises,
that point where no light exists,
thats where I live.
I am the nightmare that brings you awake,
I am the dark shape that follows you home
I am the voice you here in your sleep,
I am me, and I am you, I am we
I am the blackness that makes you scream,
The reason your heart thumps,
I am the tear you left unfallen,
The pain that makes you cry.
I exist for such a short time,
between night and day.
Yet each of you remember,
each deed I do, each word I say.
And as the sun rises,
into the blackness of night,
I crawl and hide away,
my eyes becoming darkness again,
until the blackest part of night,
becomes again again
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Hunter
The hunter stalks her prey,
following him through the night.
She stays in the shadows,
hidden from sight.
He knows nothing of her
knows nothing of his death,
unaware that the warm breeze
ruffling his hair is her breath.
She is close enough to taste him,
see the blood within his veins.
And close enough to smell him,
until all that reamains,
is to reach out now to kiss him,
feel his skin beneathher lips.
He turns towards her startled
As her head towards him dips.
End
Tonight the moon hides,
Tomorrow the sun won't shine,
Then the winds will stop.
Next clocks won't tell the time,
Then the rains will go,
Then the music's silent.
Next the breathing falters,
And the heart
Stops
Tonight becomes just a word,
Daylight becomes a myth,
Warmth becomes a mystery,
Cold is all there is.
The children stop their growing,
The old no longer are,
The parents sleep coldly,
And family no longer
Exist.
Friendships become unwanted,
Enemies are everywhere,
Love and hope turn to dust,
Lifes no longer fair.
The strong destroy the weak,
Til only evil wins.
And any questions that you seek,
Require the questions
First.
Tonight the moon dies,
Tomorrow the sun caves in,
Then the winds stop blowing,
And the world slows
to a
halt,
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Rune song
Peace to all the travellers
On this plane of ours
May you wake each morning
And know the way on
May your travel
Be filled with great hope
And may you find
That for which you seek
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Take your thoughts as you leave, and return again
All poems on this site are copyrighted to E.V. Willcox, unless otherwise stated
    This is in the way of an experiment... ignore it and move on |
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