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The Dark Side

Wednesday, 14 June 2006

Lambs Blood
Mood:  down
Topic: Dark Poetry
Lambs Blood?
By: William Phenn

Lambs blood will not protect you,
When the evil cloaks the earth.
It will seek out and find you,
No matter where you berth.

You can not run away from it,
It covers near and far.
And you shall suffer greatly,
For being what you are.

You think your faith is strong enough,
To combat such a threat?
Well wait and see what happens,
It hasn’t started yet.

You think the weather’s changing,
The storms they are the worst.
You haven’t seen a damn thing yet,
Just wait you know we’re cursed.

Posted by poetry/wmphenn at 7:00 PM
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I Am Cursed
Mood:  sad
Topic: Dark Poetry
I Am Cursed?
By: William Phenn

Why is it I can write so well,
These lines from deep within my Hell?
Is there no better life for me,
Than in this hole of misery?

Oh how I long to see the light,
But there is no chance of that tonight.
These demons keep me from my flight,
I think maybe this evil’s right?

It shows me comfort and no pain,
It soothes the worthless missing gain.
It takes me on a ride of death,
And hopes to take away my breath.

And I will let it because you see,
It has a purpose set for me.
I’ll hang with evil on the tree,
Till I find out what that will be.

Posted by poetry/wmphenn at 6:50 PM
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Heathen?s Creed
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: Dark Poetry
Heathen’s Creed?
By: William Phenn

Look to the darkness,
For where your future lies.
Embrace it for its comfort,
And use it to disguise.

Put on a face of happiness,
Of love and peace for all.
For only you will know the truth,
This phony front will fall.

So many years of fallacies,
So many hypocrites.
They all will see the Angel,
When he rises from the pits.

The sun will scorch the surface,
The oceans they will boil.
The fires will burn their bodies,
But their souls will be His spoil.

Posted by poetry/wmphenn at 6:18 PM
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Dance of The Forsaken
Mood:  crushed out
Topic: Dark Poetry
Dance of The Forsaken?
By: William Phenn

Allow me to tell you,
Of a soul once free
A soul that had no worries,
Of his fate that was to be.

The music played so nicely,
For so many years of life.
He had the best of everything,
No worries and no strife.

But then his God Almighty,
Did him a nasty turn.
He gave him to the Devil,
Sent him to hell to burn.

Ole Lucifer did welcome him,
As just a kindred soul.
He didn’t know the prize he held,
Within this deep dark hole.

For this was no mere mortal,
This mass of blood and flesh.
This was a learned scholar,
Who with others could not mesh.

So he confronted Satan,
And spoke to him quite well.
You are the fallen Angel,
Why do you call it Hell?

This isn’t such a bad place,
It’s comforts I can see.
There are so many outcasts,
From that sick society.

But why are they called outcasts,
Because they won’t conform?
So here sit all the rejects,
But here that is the norm.

Down here a band of brothers,
We all dance to the tune.
Forsaken by the wholesome,
Who think they’re so immune.

Posted by poetry/wmphenn at 6:14 PM
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Mood:  don't ask
Topic: Dark Poetry

By: William Phenn

It is comforting and soothing,
The darkness I have found.
It shields me from the outside,
No light will come around.

I so prefer the darkness,
To all the normal life.
But what you all call normal,
Brought misery and strife.

I know things of the darkness,
What creatures lurk within.
I know how to repel them,
And fight them off to win.

They also know my mindset,
It will not take too long.
For soon I will be one of them,
This is where I belong.

Posted by poetry/wmphenn at 6:01 PM
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