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Poetry competition CLOSED 19th June 2017 2:50am
WINNER
Krosgood (Violence)
Krosgood (Violence)
RUNNERS-UP:
crimsin
and UbiquitousVoid
DROWN ME IN BLOOD
WENDIGO : SURREPTION
Crimson pours over the divide
I wish to see what festers inside
Soulless wanderer, you'll feel my pain
Thrashing underneath, speak my name
Hell whispers words of power unto me
In which I seek refuge from the filth
The motive slumbers behind the deed
Vivisecting numbness, an urge to fill
Now I must kill
Embrace the venom in my hand
Your flesh girds its will
Pulled into the abyss
Surreptitious, this night
Prefabricated and cold by design
Your soul is mine
I am the phantom slipping through the cracks
Aborted hope, there is no escape
Candle snuffed, the world becomes a cataract
Enclosing darkness turns the page
You ask me what I see in the mirror
A frozen landscape, this godless paradise
Hate corrupted, masticated by horror
On those limbs that beg to be adorned
Let your lust confuse
I'll take from you what obfuscates
I'm the only light you need
This demon freed
A carnal dream, a masterpiece
Choking on blood and vomitus
Waking coma, death denied
All survives here but the hope in your eyes
My heart was blackened by what claims all lives
Profuse, profound, silence was the sound
My lies could torture the weak of mind
Ingest them now, lest my hunger decide
Now I must kill
Embrace the venom in my hand
Your flesh girds its will
Pulled into the abyss
Surreptitious, this night
Prefabicated and cold by design
Your soul is mine
Written by UbiquitousVoid
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Inspired by Carnifex in general, not any particular song, because I've known them for years.
ABORTIONS OF A NIGHTMARE
(inspired by "Angel of Death")
don't think you'll earn your points in death
the only points are knives slick with your life
running bright red to keep you from your race
countless fingernails embedded in the
shower stalls that rain down acid
of every night terror, projected like
the heavily spliced silent newsreels of
bi-plane skylines and Purple Gang massacres
in the bubbled cracklings of deteriorating
nitrate, leaving the blackened outline
of a holocaust victim; the lidless glare
of a strobe filtered through the spider-veined
parchment of its skin, lurching off the
images of a nightmare burning thin, and
chattering sprockets of vertebrae, while
throwing chaos into a clockwork sluice
that sets in motion the next death star cult
where I own you and every piece I
decapitate from your worthless carcass
as I fuck you into a bloodied mess
no longer recognizing you & your worm
don't think you'll earn your points in death
the only points are knives slick with your life
running bright red to keep you from your race
where I own you and every piece I
decapitate from your worthless carcass
as I fuck you into a bloodied mess
no longer recognizing you & your worm
"Torn from the heavens
To death she ascended
We are the souls of the unforgiven
War of attrition
Unearthly possession
Love is the song of a dead religion"
Anyone else? The clock is ticking. Time is running out for this shiny new trophy!
To death she ascended
We are the souls of the unforgiven
War of attrition
Unearthly possession
Love is the song of a dead religion"
Anyone else? The clock is ticking. Time is running out for this shiny new trophy!
I just want to say that I am blown away at how well done you, my fellow poets, did. You nailed it and in doing so made this decision extremely difficult. You all deserve a trophy. But alas, in the immortal words of Connor MacLeod, there can be only one.
