#morbid

109 posts
  • ananias 3w

    Asleep in the morgue
    Nothing compares
    Envy of the dead
    Jealousy born from fear

    ©ananias

  • mimansha_bhatt 6w

    #writersnetwork #wild @writersnetwork @miraquill @love_whispererr #morbid #notsodeadpoet #verse #morbid #wild #wod
    Always embrace yourself people..Life is too short to have insecurities about yourself..Keep working on yourself not because you are behind others instead do it because you can always do better...Always stay motivated and keep motivating..Bye Bye birdies..��

    ����

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    As I stopped
    Cherishing myself
    I lost the wild inside of me
    Just the dead poet alive
    Trudging down the aisle
    Of my deceased poetry

    ©mimansha_bhatt

  • deepikasarma 14w

    "

    With death came mortality,
    With it came the idea of it's conquest.
    Took birth the idea of immortality,
    with it began the poet's quest.
    Hence,
    With death came poetry.
    D.S

  • badnugget55 16w

    If they even bother

    I think dying would be simpler than this. At least then people can pretend to miss me.
    ©badnugget55

  • no_more_write 29w

    Two pairs of eyes meet
    One grinned
    Another grimmed

    ©66crimson99

  • shewhokilledthelight 30w

    She listened to the sun on high
    and it spoke lightly of nothing.
    Heavy rays burning down through her back,
    rendering the dark weightless on her chest.
    cast before her,
    smooth stones mixed with dead seas
    carving her body back into her shadowed grave.


    ©shewhokilledthelight

  • mauri_varis 41w

    Thy art is murder

    One, two, three, four,
    I see beauty in the gore.
    Gorgeous art born from war,
    oh dead bodies galore.

    Corpses I particularly adore,
    a nature morte in it´s core.
    If you want more then please explore
    whats behind my basement door.

    A stilleben made hardcore,
    laying down on the cellar floor.
    A dead whore, for my encore,
    her final pose fits perfectly with the decor.

    The body captures her last implore,
    you can see the mercy she so begged for,
    and almost hear her desperate roar.
    My magnum opus I named "Muerte del amour".

    This femme fatale is so much more
    irresistible now then before.
    The allure of death is so hard to ignore,
    my work is an exhibition, a morbid metaphor.

    The fact that art doesn't work without pain
    but also,
    art exists for compensating pain
    and therefore.

    My art is pure by not being alive anymore,
    they always cry so loud that my ears get soar.
    By killing them our shared pain is no more,
    when silence grow pain fades away,
    emotion felt nevermore.

    ©mauri_varis

  • devilfish 46w

    Lights From Saturn

    The sun's not distant
    The man made mind is accredited to be simplistically stone
    Of a total false depiction
    Of a focal point they cut corners in their vision
    Peter piper
    Words dripping
    Pupils looking at a viper
    Like venom from a snake
    With the strength of a tiger
    Water signs and cardinal one's alike
    We move to the side as we parts tides
    With the eruption of a fire of intensely and immensely fervent passion
    This moment is meant to be felt
    Not compelled a spell of chemical splashes
    On dotted lines they can find while they're crashing
    You are reading this against the sound of towers crashing
    That's realities refracted by the traps they act defensive but strike with an intent
    Morals like weak buildings in an already spent quiver in the karmic knots down our spines
    We intertwine in our intuition
    I am standing behind mine with my sort retracted but eyes that will turn any evil to the first heart where it tore us all apart from where we start healing feeling not conceited lesions of lurking lesions opportunistic infections compression with a tension in an unlearned lesson
    I'm not done with the times you mentioned
    What you Said you just deflect it
    A defect I cant take it
    I won't fake it
    I've got heart that will break you as you itch it
    I've got to set myself apart from you
    And I'm not afraid to make it clear you cannot peer into my eyes while you're proper up on a tier roaring above me like a bird with clipped wings silver bells through biased eyes of store bought lies I'm breaking ties
    I will not lie in indecision from the ashes of karma's decision I have risen from the tides they feed me keep
    With a desire that doesn't decay under the sun's truth of hellish fire
    Brimming from an overfilling cup
    I'm overthinking I must start to see things clearly in my vision no division in the incision of my concept I've envoked in diamonds glittering in the starry lights
    Lanterns that float angelically towards the abyss of eternal skies
    Burying their corpses is eternally robbed of what they warped by their mourning mother's herd
    withered in barns when they birthed an abortion of a fetal corpse
    Time eats at your pitiful flesh
    Unforgiven can't be met with sympathetic regret and tears that haven't been wept yet
    They can get their feet wet
    In their own determined fixated ego complex
    Simplify the complex
    A grim remorse that oozes in sin
    It infects the direct path of those who lie complacent in the vortex
    With a slurring slither of a crafty merchant covered in sin leaking from within this whole place will spill
    Watch it being still just like the pill before I pop it flying off the handle with a drift that will send your ship wrecked in shambles
    A I'm not a sad soul I'm a one they played fouls and called truce but spurred branches of trees that were like olive branches that I could see through
    Vinyl gardens of asphalt that it bleeds into when I seen what impedes my love
    Ozzing in my blood exalted in my skin
    Adonis sonorous song could ivoke from the lecherous gazes from the darkest sirens
    Call you back to my waters I bring

    ©devilfish

  • cactuspenguin 50w

    Not sure what exactly prompted me to go this direction, but here ya go! #writingcontest #creativearena #tree #sarcastic #funny #dark #morbid

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    From the eyes of a tired and sarcastic tree

    Well.
    It's been 352 years.
    I'm tired.
    I just wanna die.
    Someone please cut me down.

    Ah, just swell.
    Here come those teenagers.
    They're gonna make out under me again, aren't they?
    Of course, just what I need.
    What losers.

    Ugh. Bleh.
    I hear them kissing.
    They're moaning too.
    Oh, they're stripping now.
    I'm gonna get 'em...

    Hehehe.
    I dropped a branch.
    One got a concussion.
    The other one's crying on the phone.
    I hear sirens.

    Vrrrmmmm!
    One of the dads has a chainsaw.
    They're finally gonna cut me down.
    Oh joy!
    Just what I wanted!

    But...Hmm...
    I'm staring to think.
    I'm starting to really think.
    It's a little late, as the chainsaw's getting closer.
    But I'm still thinking.

    Maybe that was a bad idea.
    Maybe I shouldn't terrorize horny teenagers.
    Maybe I actually want my life.
    Maybe I just need more excitement.
    Eh. Whatever!

    ©Cactus Penguin

  • shewhokilledthelight 51w

    Terror

    Terror could have a home.
    Where misery tangible, and thin plastic folds could be the only forgiveness between now and forever.
    Redefining fear, it was her place to fall away from dejection.
    Stillness in her time.
    A struggle more certain than ever,
    defined by a gasping for breath.
    Nestled in her light brown eyes,
    terror could have a home.



    ©shewhokilledthelight

  • apple_brooklyn 53w

    The tunnel

    May the Lord forgive me as I chase,
    the blinking light at the end of the dark tunnel;
    for I refuse to be a prisoner of this cage,
    which they morbidly call the fate of the sullen
    spirits and gilded souls alike;
    for I refuse to have my life
    transpired into nothing in front of my jaded eyes.
    ©appleb

  • shewhokilledthelight 53w

    Gone

    Like a ghost who never got to die.



    ©shewhokilledthelight

  • shewhokilledthelight 55w

    Vengeance

    No way from which to astray.
    The sun had come
    to dry the marrow from her bones.
    Hang her skin from thorns of rose;
    It's flame to burn her back to ash.
    The cavern corpse to rot no more.
    Nothing more.
    Nothing left of her sweet breath.
    Not to rise in feathered flight.
    But, to fill the pale grey sky with her dust.
    Turning spit to mortar in their lungs,
    Now, full of her spite and death to come.






    ©shewhokilledthelight

  • mentally_till 57w

    My Body

    Skin to skin, I wonder if she likes my warmth as much as I like hers.
    I wonder if she'll carry on until my body grows cold
    I wonder if she'd continue beyond that
    Would she notice? Would she care?
    As my body crumbles to dust between her fingers.

  • jules9 63w

    Get rid of your morbid thoughts before it rips your soul.

    ©jules9

  • pseudipta 74w

    The pull of Death

    Death teases
    With promises of
    A better belonging
    Dangling a sweet sense of escape
    Tempting

    ©pseudipta

  • inanis 86w

    Ending Me

    This life is not enough, you take it anyway,
    I've given up to your endless hunger,
    This pain won't last much longer,
    Almost as if, dying is okay.
    ©inanis

  • deadlittlesongbird 88w

    At Death's Door (Part One)

    You, a lost love
    But it did not take time
    For me to seek another.

    My newly found lover
    Is Death.
    How willingly he embraced me.

    Ice injected in my veins,
    Coursing through
    Causing harm.

    Tears freeze
    Upon once rosy cheeks,
    That are now as pale as death Himself.

    My muscles tense against the cold
    A small twinge of fear
    Is quenched by Death's touch.

    He holds me close,
    Snow cold lips grazing mine
    Turning them the soft blue of the sky.

    Frostbitten hands caress,
    Leaving frozen skin
    In their wake.

    Last breath I'll ever take
    Gasps from my lungs
    Suspended in the air like smoke.

    My foggy breath dissipates
    Disappearing, vanishing
    Like my life.

    Death has harvested
    Another soul.
    I'm added to His vast collection.

    Little did Death know,
    I tricked Him, used Him
    To get to you.
    ©deadlittlesongbird

  • deadlittlesongbird 90w

    From Blankets to a Bed of ferns

    I scattered my brain, piece by piece;
    Along these cracked and labyrinthine Missoula Montana streets.
    That are lined with discarded dreams, rubbers and needles.
    Just your average college town.

    At the base of a California Red Wood I dig a hole
    To plant my mutilated heart,
    In hopes she will become entwined in the roots
    Closest thing any of me has to call a home.

    My ribs have all been cracked and loosened
    To adorn and puncture the neck of my defiler
    Creating a macabre choker, a bloodstained reminder
    So he can feel the pain he caused me.

    What remained of my sanity has sunk
    To the toxic depths of the Berkeley pit.
    She'll do fine...
    But who am I kidding?

    Whats left of me I drag to a lush forest
    Rigor mortis sets in as I stumble
    My final words escape as my remains collapse in a bed of ferns:
    "I hope you weren't joking about that do over."
    ©deadlittlesongbird

  • grotesque 82w

    Depression: 1.9

    Sunken in your repetition; a long tiring story
    Of us; a never ending processes of waiting.
    At twilight, I went further to the forest hoping
    You would gather courage to come. But...
    I find no one. I am hapless of crying every night
    And waking up as a robot the next morning now!
    Could you please say will you come back?
    Or the festivals would remain silent like me?!
    This time, I did trust you again. I thought you
    My beloved, would not steal my heart. I hoped
    You would not break and perish it in front of
    The whole world. Why did you even start
    Paying attention to my words when you knew
    You would eventually run away cowardly.
    A thief you are in deed. Stole my heart for wrong
    Reasons. I am drowning as the numbness in my
    Limbs are increasing. The house of our dreams
    Is empty with the sound of the clock ticking.
    It irritates me. It is brutal that I am still alive
    After so much of your ill treatment. Why even I
    Still wait for you in the woods? Why I highly
    Think of your morals when I know all you can do
    Is to elope; from your own thoughts or from
    Mirrors! Well, that summer we shared the same
    Bed sorting out how we would fight this world,
    Little did I know, you never intended to introduce
    Me into your world. You just existed with me.
    The day you went away and never came back,
    I am still waiting. Although I know you won't come
    Back. Although it will kill me again. But if I have
    Loved someone deeply it is you. I am selfish to
    Not see anymore. I am selfish enough to feel
    You and just you. With the meadows in my arm
    I will soon be eaten up by the soil. But my beloved
    My soul will wander. It will still wander in those
    Woods to search for that one truth you have
    Shared with me; the truth of consistency..
    The truth of not showing up when you were
    Craved. The truth of becoming morbid while
    Talking about us. The truth of making a hole in my
    Heart for centuries. I will be there suspended in
    Your memory. Caress them with another truth.
    I love you.
    ©grotesque