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.

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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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