Horror – Page 25 – Poems by Sam

What Time Is It?

2:30 at the time of writing. “What time is it?” I ask again. Do you know what time it is? Look at the clock and trace the ticking arms with your eyes. Find the hour, find the minute. To the second even? Too late. Out of time. You still don’t know what time it is. How could you ever?

Cracks in the Clock

Every second is excruciating

Every minute acutely agonizing

Hours pass as years

And Days in decades

I have been sitting here for 90 minutes

I can hardly believe

Everything changes in a Day

Everything changes in a minute

How’s it all so fast

When everything’s so slow?

Everything about me

juxtaposed

Incongruous

Broken and Fractured

Waiting to be raptured

Fighting with myself

At peace with myself

Loving myself and hating myself

A genius and a moron

A hero and a monster

A good man and a bad man

All at once

Driving me insane

The depths of my mind

Where to begin

Watching the dryer set to spin

Pins and needles swarm from the metronome

Tick and Tock

Stick and Shock

Kisses don’t…

It doesn’t matter

Dreams and Nightmares

Good morning, friends. I am cautiously feeling better today. I slept well enough. No dreams, no nightmares. Gifts for my birthday though. I’m enjoying them so far. Time with family makes me not feel so lost. One day I hope to have the family of my own I’ve been dreaming of. Seems a long way away. For now it’s just my dreams and nightmares.

Abyssal Screams

Voices, voices in the deep

Voices, voices, see them steep

Drink your tea

Hear them speak

How the whispers louden

Almost to a screech

I hear them screaming

Always screaming

Scared, scared, scared

Alone

What’s a man to do?

Record your message at the tone…

Never there

Never ever ever there

Oh how the voices wear

Mind a fortress

Under siege

How long before?

The walls come crashing down

Dread Depending

Good day, all. Today is a day to think of the end of the world. What can you possibly do to avert such an event? What can you do when you have no control? What do you do when you are faced with the coming of the Black Crusade? Survive, at all cost. There are fates worse than death.

Atah’Zanadu, The Great Crusade

Sifting sands

Fervent bands

Marching with full hands

Through humble dunes to distant lands

“Hallowed be thy name,

O great god of arid plains,

Deliver us from our pains,

And wipe from us our stains”

Cleanse the infidel, purge the heretic

They sally forth in dark cascade

Were house and palace, now a single burning stick

They carry out this black crusade

“Your watchful gaze brings no attrition,

Your watchful gaze brings no sedition,

Your watchful gaze brings attribution,

O Lord, as we effect your retribution”

Burning fires, heat and cinder

Houses are ash, families are tinder

Onwards, onwards, unto the dawn

Each and every one of you, but a simple pawn

Peaceable Prognosis

Good afternoon! Today is a good day. It is ever so softly raining while being warm enough to walk around without a jacket. I have a lot to do today but I feel prepared for it. I sat beside my open window last night as cool springish air wafted in and over me. I felt strangely at peace. My worries had faded and the world seemed so much more right than it had in a long time, almost as if that moment would last forever and ever, infinitely calming. The world melted away and was replaced with a sense of togetherness I had not felt for a long time. I realize now that dreaming of peace is no fruitless endeavor. It is attainable, finally. Without further ado, a poem about losing your mind.

Mindfulness

therewithin

therewithout

extant sin

scream and shout

flies filed away

rife with decay

stagnant water

mosquito fodder

crawling on your skin

skittering in your ribcage

visions of infernal djinn

that demonic necrophage

it lies behind, ever so slightly

pittering, pattering, ever so lightly

controlling cordyceps

hearing footsteps

when mind you’ve found

you’ve lost your mind

Ready, Set, Lose

In the words of a man who may or may not exist, “If you ain’t first, you’re last.” How can you feel what it’s like to win if you’re not the best? What’s it feel like to be at the top? The bottom? With no way we can all be first, let’s talk about what it’s like to lose. How’s it feel to never be good enough? To never be the first pick? Even the last pick gets recognition. But what does it feel like to get picked third to last? ———PS: Follow and share links are at the very bottom of every post, near the comments, as well as ways to donate at the bottom of the about me section if anyone would like to support my writing further. Thanks everybody for the resounding support I’ve had so far!

Stasis

your strength fades

no light behind the eyes

all that’s left are shades

all that’s left are lies

growing and multiplying

now metastasizing

weaker and weaker you wane

as your disease waxes

christ alive

lost your drive

hope is gone

missing the sun

muscles atrophied

bones of glass

pallid face

and glossy eyes

still breathing

light already leaving

you lost the fight

how pathetic a sight