Dark Poems

Roses are red, and so is blood. . .


6. 6.



Green meadow's, delicate deer grazing, singing birds with their gentle voices

            Rolling hills, a perfect world that is filled with only good choices

Safe from harm, protected by the breeze, food a plenty from an apple tree

            Blue waters, clear sky's, but you see, that kind of life is not for me

See the smoke, feel the fire, the agonizing melting of your skin

            Hear that scream, the symbol of pain, that just came from your kin

The black water is engulfing, the highest wave a bottomless hole fear will bring

           Coldness present, can't hear a thing, tied of with my anger by a poisonous string

You never hear me coming, yet you know soul you see, my evil character it can only be

           Now that, my next victim, is just right for me

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