Conscience Contained

Are you drawn to the dark and dreary? Are you interested in the morbid actions of the supernatural? If so, read the poem. If not...I challenge you.


1. 202 word count

Conscience Contained


The devils behind you, no, don’t turn around.                                                                                                                                

I want you to breathe without making a sound.                                                                                                                            

You invited him in, when you tainted your knives,                                                                                                                              

I imagine a witch in one of your past lives.


I felt a smile crawl onto my face but I wiped it off, so there wasn’t a trace.                                                                  

The startling crimson reminded me of hell, I’ve done it before… couldn’t you tell?                                                       

The carnage, the chaos, it pleases me so; the tempting misery that will overflow.                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Hunted by the devil - that Beast! My withering soul will become his new feast.


Your pleasure, your fear, your stubborn devotion,                                                                                                                        

It’s nothing compared to my all-knowing notion.                                                                                                                     

The devil is here, and attack he will do                                                                                                                                  

Pain’s his forte...HA! You haven't a clue.


The skin I have torn, the families broken, please take this head as a sorrowful token

I burn it in fire-the blood I have spilt; I beg you, I beg you, renounce all my guilt!

A danger I am to noone but me, and so I shall sleep, it is as I decree.


The devil is gone;

He was just in your head

He chipped at your sanity until you were dead.

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