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Dark Psyche Poetry
Dark Poetry by Darkheart
Dead Man's Wail
Every night I venture to the woods
To listen to the dead man's wail
I dance to his chants of sorrow and woe
As he pleads to no avail
He looks up from the deep damp darkness
Moss covering what used to be skin
Not realizing that he is already dead
He screams help me again and again
I look down and shout no peace for you
No rest for your Godless soul
A child's innocence replaced with shame
Revenge is best served cold
By the way-how cold is it down there
You must be as miserable as hell
A mother's justice you will suffer
Deep in the dead man's well
Cindy
Vices
Nicodemus had a bad habit of killing
Of all the vices in the world
It would have been better if he smoked
Or had become an alcoholic
He had long since stopped
Trying to control the compulsion
As he walked down the street
He laughed to himself
Officer I didn't mean to do it
His head accidentally
Got stuck in that vice
I'm on this twelve step program you see
He had just purchased a new vice
And was itching to use it
He was going through withdrawal
So it was definitely time
He had been following his victim
For about a week now
And could not wait to see
The fears in his eyes
At that moment
His victim was busy reading
Some random poetm he found online
Oh boy, was he in for a big suprise
Cindy
All content copyright~Cynthia B. ~ Dark Psyche Poetryext.
Tastes Like Chicken
Like the uncertainty of a spring shower
It comes upon him wave after wave
Each one more virile than the one before
He scrubs the stained floors yet again
Next he will scour and scrub his body
Watch his disgust travel down the drain
Erase the memory of mounting cold flesh
Of body parts sealed, preserved, and dated
Victims turned lovers then culinary art
And after a few weeks laden with blackouts
He will reach into the back of his freezer
Try out the new recipe he found
The kitchen will be pristeen
The table set perfectly
His member will harden as he sups
Cindy
