Submissions by ScarlettQueen
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
SELF POEM
Published
9th Nov 2015 5:24pm
9th Nov 2015 5:24pm
Ash and Blood
When I looked up to feel the rain,
it burned
a teardrop under my eye
and when I opened my mouth to catch it
it was blood
I looked up to see the snow
and let it settle on my face
I stuck my tongue out
to taste it
but it was ash
I wanted rain and snow but I got ash and blood.
And somehow, I think it was better
it burned
a teardrop under my eye
and when I opened my mouth to catch it
it was blood
I looked up to see the snow
and let it settle on my face
I stuck my tongue out
to taste it
but it was ash
I wanted rain and snow but I got ash and blood.
And somehow, I think it was better
652 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
27th Oct 2015 3:29pm
27th Oct 2015 3:29pm
She lives in my head with the roses
She's a beautiful monster
with a terrible life.
She lives in my daydreams, trapped by the vines.
She has a beautiful smile
but a terrible life
She spins beautiful lies in her terrible mind
and beautiful monsters sometimes die.
She lives in my head with the roses
and I'd love to kill her
but she makes me write.
with a terrible life.
She lives in my daydreams, trapped by the vines.
She has a beautiful smile
but a terrible life
She spins beautiful lies in her terrible mind
and beautiful monsters sometimes die.
She lives in my head with the roses
and I'd love to kill her
but she makes me write.
555 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
24th Sep 2015 6:56pm
24th Sep 2015 6:56pm
Dancing at Midnight
Pretend that the stars are violins, they are constant, always there.
At the end of the song, they maybe die down a little bit, because the sun is coming.
The candle flame is the flute, it flickers, rising and falling with the drums,
every time you step, they beat and with them rize the flutes.
Every time I step, imagine the chandeliers as bells, every time I step, they chime.
We are dancing, at midnight, to the flickering of the fire, to the ever present shining of the stars.
To the movement of our feet, to the ever present beat and the silver, ringing, shining of the...
At the end of the song, they maybe die down a little bit, because the sun is coming.
The candle flame is the flute, it flickers, rising and falling with the drums,
every time you step, they beat and with them rize the flutes.
Every time I step, imagine the chandeliers as bells, every time I step, they chime.
We are dancing, at midnight, to the flickering of the fire, to the ever present shining of the stars.
To the movement of our feet, to the ever present beat and the silver, ringing, shining of the...
690 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
23rd May 2015 7:58pm
23rd May 2015 7:58pm
Silence
It's a secret, striking silence
and you really want to scream
but bone fingers strangle you as you run away.
Like a darker deeper silence
that makes you want to bleed,
like a smaller tighter silence
and you see it in your dreams,
and you want to keep on running, but you have to stop and breathe.
It's a breathless kind of silence, with bone fingers around your neck.
And you try to keep on running, and you try to gasp for breath.
It's a deadly kind of silence, where you want to go to sleep,
and it's a dying kind of silence when the fingers release...
and you really want to scream
but bone fingers strangle you as you run away.
Like a darker deeper silence
that makes you want to bleed,
like a smaller tighter silence
and you see it in your dreams,
and you want to keep on running, but you have to stop and breathe.
It's a breathless kind of silence, with bone fingers around your neck.
And you try to keep on running, and you try to gasp for breath.
It's a deadly kind of silence, where you want to go to sleep,
and it's a dying kind of silence when the fingers release...
637 reads
3 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
21st May 2015 3:21pm
21st May 2015 3:21pm
Wings of the Wicked
(I posted this under the NightSisters competition but I want some honest feedback)
Dark Angel
Ark Angel
I’m a demon undisguised
These stupid petty rats with wings should bow when I fly by
No facade of white and silver
Will mask my scarlet wings,
I fly at night, my eyes alight
with dreams of terrible things
Dark Angel
Ark Angel
A coven of shadowy fiends
Chaos is my element
Its better than it seems
When I’m around
things are twisted and cracked
with madness in between
Dark Angel
Ark Angel
Some...
Dark Angel
Ark Angel
I’m a demon undisguised
These stupid petty rats with wings should bow when I fly by
No facade of white and silver
Will mask my scarlet wings,
I fly at night, my eyes alight
with dreams of terrible things
Dark Angel
Ark Angel
A coven of shadowy fiends
Chaos is my element
Its better than it seems
When I’m around
things are twisted and cracked
with madness in between
Dark Angel
Ark Angel
Some...
683 reads
5 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
20th May 2015 4:15pm
20th May 2015 4:15pm
The Spider Queens Graveyard
The Supreme Queen of her Spider Garden
She reigns, she rules, macabre.
Amongst her cobweb labyrinth,
she devours all who come.
Along her beauteous gossamer web,
cadaverous corpses hanging by threads
they sway and whisper in the wind
trying to get out of the hell they’re in
but the Queen with her ghastly ghoulish grin
always knows, always catches and then they’re doubly dead.
At the midnight hour, a butterfly comes by
her radiant wings are ensnared,
she struggles and strives but just can’t escape
so the Spider Queen prevails.
in the...
She reigns, she rules, macabre.
Amongst her cobweb labyrinth,
she devours all who come.
Along her beauteous gossamer web,
cadaverous corpses hanging by threads
they sway and whisper in the wind
trying to get out of the hell they’re in
but the Queen with her ghastly ghoulish grin
always knows, always catches and then they’re doubly dead.
At the midnight hour, a butterfly comes by
her radiant wings are ensnared,
she struggles and strives but just can’t escape
so the Spider Queen prevails.
in the...
826 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th May 2015 8:12pm
18th May 2015 8:12pm
Watercolor Sunset
Gold colors sunsets, he paints with soft brushes and makes sure his edges blend and meld, when he brushes with Pink, he blushes. Pink is shy, she paints with soft dabs at the corners, she is in love with Gold. Red, always the matchmaker, pushes them closer and closer, and then she’s off, painting the sunset with curls of bold and electric color. Grey follows her, accentuating the color Red puts down. Grey is a special guest, you usually only see her on rainy days, but Red invited her. I think they're in love.
Yellow paints the last dying rays of the sun, they reach out, sending glimmers...
Yellow paints the last dying rays of the sun, they reach out, sending glimmers...
730 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by ScarlettQueen
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