Just somthing

sadness pours
from within
looking for
a true friend

Wanting peace
Deep inside
Wanting to rlese
what i hide

Changing is
what I want
To show what
I think I can't.

a spontanious out pour

I got bored yesterday, and wrote this...In viking runes. As I said i got bored.


Gentle Touch

Life without
Sweet caress
Starts within
Deep unrest

Touching of
Gentle skin
Beating heart
popunds within.

Poems of life

The rush of life

I sing to me
My siren song
Of things that
Don’t belong

I sing of fear
Of hate, of pain
Longing for
That rush again

I need to feel
All differently
Love and joy
And things to be.



Feeling inside

Songs of sorrow
Songs of hate
Are not found
On our first date

Slow and dreamy
Staring down
Sheepishly I
Watch the ground

Blush of pink
Of rosy red
I feel alive
No longer dead

You bring with you
A peaceful joy
To be experienced
By each girl and boy.

Writing of A sadder style

Peace for the sorrow

Nothing but
A single sound
As the raindrop
Hits the ground

The melody
That it plays
Is to be saved
For later days

For days of peace
And days of sad
Of sorrow song
That is to be had

Catch it in glass
Of silver fine
Catch one in yours
And one in mine.

A short, and hopefully creepy, story.

As she sat at the computer, she blanked. How could she do this? How could she write something like this, when she had barely written anything before? Huff, she let out a tremendous sigh, ok, stop thinking, that's what ya got to do, she thought to her self. So she did. Turning on her headphones she let it low, the thoughts, the emotions, they were all there, waiting for her to release them. So she did. For hours she sat there, not thinking of anything but the flow, the train of images and feeling that came to her and traversed out her fingers to be typed on the page. She barely even acknowledged the fact that her parents had called her in for dinner. She just typed. This is what she had dreamed of doing the first time she read the flyer, this felt right to her. The sound of the keys brought to her the sound of sweet music. The light of the computer brought her into her role, she immersed her self in it. Reveling in her own thoughts, but yet, they weren’t quite her own, they seemed to have a spirit of their own. But she ignored that fact, instead she just typed. Hour’s later sleep brought her back; she had to rest, had to restore herself to type more beautiful thoughts and feelings. She went to bed. All night, thoughts infiltrated her dreams, things she did not know, did not recognize, things that were stranger than the stories of fantasy told when she was little. They scared her. But she could not escape them, they followed her, always the same distance behind her, she could never out run them, never hide from them, they would always be there, always trying to get her. She should surrender to them; she would always lose any ways. A part of her still fought them, but it would lose. They could wait forever, they weren’t going anywhere, they could be patient until she submitted. Besides, the chase was fun for them. The next morning she remembered nothing of her dreams, all she knew was the urge to type, she must continue, must reach the end of it, so that she could begin again. She headed to the computer, she brought up what should have been her work, but it was gone, all of her thoughts and emotions had been deleted. She must start again, this thought didn't bother her as much as it should have, typing was something that she now enjoyed, and typing was all she enjoyed. Typing would be her life! Again the day went as before, her doing nothing but typing, noticing nothing but typing. Typing was becoming her, her was becoming nothing. Both her parents tried to arouse her from the daze she was in, but neither could. Not even the arrival of her boyfriend brought any life too her, she just typed. Nothing could distract her; she must finish this today, because it wouldn't be there tomorrow. For days this went on, she did nothing but type, trying to finish her work before the end of the day, and sleep caught up on her, but she never did. Her parents and friends became more and more worried about her, nothing they did ever brought her out of her stupor, it was almost like was on something, except she never ate or drank anything. She had been wearing the same clothes since she began, she never left to even sleep anymore, she just fell asleep at her chair, waking up early and typing till she passed out. Everyday the same She was almost finished, she had one page to go, and then she e would be free, free from the things that tormented her, that forced her to finish, to complete her work, so that they may take her over once and for all. That was fine with her, she knew she wouldn't really be there when they got to her she would be else where, a place with out them, she would be free, free from all pain. She just had to finish this page and print it, then she could go, then she could leave. At last, she was done, she hit print, as soon as she did, and she collapsed. Both parents ran to her, to see what was wrong, to see why she had just collapsed from her chair. They had both been waiting beside her for days now, waiting for her to come back from where ever she was, to return to them from her inner world. When they got to her, they knew she would never be coming back, ever. She had collapsed because she had died. Her mother looked over at the printer when it started up, to see what she had printed before she perished. What she saw there horrified her. It was line after line of what looked to be a chant in some very strange language, one with out any vowels, or any other form or resemblance to the English language, or any other on this earth. There were pages of it to, at least a hundred, the printer was complaining about being out of paper, but this was a special one, designed for a mass print, how could it be out? What was it that had captured her daughter so much that she had been unable to do anything else but type it up for days? This was something she didn't think she would ever find out Far from the place where she had collapsed, in an abandon house, a strange form arose, and smiled. Finally, he was free, free from that stupid box that had held him for years, free to destroy the world and all that had been safe. They put him in the box, and now they would pay. Now that the incantation had been rewritten, now he could conquer all, and make them grovel at his feet for mercy... and then he would kill them.

Dark Poetry

Things that lurk
In shadows dark
That come and
Creep in the park

The monster that
Hides beneath
The bed, the night,
The doorway wreath

The come for you
On night so gray
Looking for
The correct Way

To take you down
To feed themselves
To take the your life
For their shelves

Beware the shadow
Beneath the floor
They come for you
They’re at your door.

Music Poem

A flowing note
A ringing sound
A smooth rhythm
I dance along

Flows like water
Into my soul
Swirling around me
A beat, a toll.

Cutting a design
a rough feeling
Causing a stir
Of my heart sealing

Dancing to
A pattern unknown
All self-loathing
Aside is thrown

Curing me
Of all that ails
Moving like this
My spirit sails.

The second one and the third

Night time shadows
Creep out light
Darkness stirs
Under stars bright

Feelings creep
Through shadows dark
Scaling up
Rouhg tree bark

Bright moon shines
Lights up some
Deep star lite
Shines on none

Twilghit coming
Dusk is here
Run throughs shadows
Not to fear

Nights music
Playing strong
Struming softly
Drifts along

Cool breeze blows
Streaming on
Till night's over
Oh, here comes dawn.


Demons of the night


Eyes of green
Gold or Blue
Nightly Glowing
In bright hues

Pointed ears
And furry tail
Able to walk
On roof or rail

Softly padding
In the night
Curled up sleeping
In sunlight

Land on feet
From any height
In the dark
Has perfect sight


The first one I wrote while outside, the second I wrote to discribe somthing, I like doing that, describing somthing so that others know what it is, with out saying what it is.

My first poem here

Joy emerges
Deep within
Bringing glad
And thoughts of sin

Hearing voice
Over waves
Happy thoughts
Start to rave

Deep embrace
Coming soon
S[pirt high
As the moon

Dancing wild
Smile shows
Reaveling gladness
That soul knows

This really doesn't have a name, or anything, most don't, but, it was written yesterday, and it has true meaning to it.