Kings and Queens and Devils Spawn

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I feel only pity. Not for you, for those touched by you. Those stained with your toxin breath and acid words. Those that hear the echoes of your banshee scream as dawn calls upon another day and they believe they converse with an angel.

I pity the God’s you pray to, the hyprocracy in your evening cries, the venom in your devil eyes. A descendant of lilith, fallen angels with blackened wings fanning the vile words falling from your spitting tongue.

The serpent coils through your soul, what embers of innocence once lay there now crushed, dispersed on trade winds to a lover and another and any poor fool consumed by your succubus melody and the broken strings of your violin.

But alas I will carry your lesson into tomorrow on the beating wings of spirits love forever at my side. My gain was your want, eternal without condition beyond the physical realm. Spiritual devotion rewarded now in universal bliss…

Your lessons taught me the value
Of true loves blessed kiss. Your game play was preparation, for me to become his. Your poison was the toxin in my climb
as I learned self worth and when my King
took stand to claim his Queen,
I knew I was worthy this time.

Karen Hayward ©2017 Image and words

To Purge

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Some people eat to purge
They devour platefuls of
Love, spoonfuls of hate
Bowls spilling with disgust.

Some, drink vodka, gin
Whiskey and bottled beer
Swigging back pain
Sipping on indifference.

For some, it is one more
run, sprinting back the tears
Curling the fears, stretching
the broken fragments clear.

I purge on the dark recesses
of my skull, pull away at
silver threads, devouring
memories made to break.

I lose myself in the silence
of melancholy let it swim
naked through my veins
Tearing me with each stroke.

I let each one fall, tasting the depth
of their essence, let it
ricochet through me in
forgotten undertones of being.

I purge myself through the
Lost memories of my ancient
voice, capturing them within
A moment, then release,
as my lungs breathe and my
eyes smart at the purging.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

Vast underworld of lust

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The vast emptiness

of a muddled mind,

fractured beyond

the splintered remnants

of the devil kiss…

…where now are the fireflies

that once had enlightened

my soul to celestial skies.

For all about me lays the

vast wastelands of the underworld,

the river Styx whispers to

me at nights promise as

slumber pulls me under,

I am fallen,

the broken remains of

belief swimming

now in Stygian darkness

 

drowning my sins in lust

suffocating my love in desire

saving myself from the

mundane wishes of

the blind.

 

Karen Hayward ©2018

fragmented diamonds

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I suffocate in the silent notes
of a forgotten orchestra
as it drowns me in its melodious
song, the ancient whistle of
Pan and his nymphs dancing
to an unheard tune as I lose
Sight of skies of blue.

Dressed in topaz silk skimming
bare knees, purple ribbons
toes skipping on marble floors,
I hear the devil call as he lands
upon my shore…
All air is sucked from my lungs
Life drained from my veins
Tears milked from the shadows
of my heart as the walls tumble,
As the ceilings crumble,
As the chandelier shatters…

… fragmented diamonds,
sparkle in the darkest hours,
Light in life’s void, beauty in
It’s shadows…

I could drown in the
monochrome whispers of
fantasy, lost, suffocating
in my reality…

Karen Hayward ©2018

Image and words

Burn the embers

Burn the embers of my broken

soul on hot coal

beneath the devil’s spit.

Let me burn. 

I am without salvation, 

I yearn for deprivation. 

I yearn for Satan’s cave

Flaming pits and burning wings.  

Burn the embers of my 

Essence disperse them 

In winters winds in freezing 

Snows, burn the embers 

Of this broken soul. 
Karen Hayward © 2017

Freddy and Jason.

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Covered in blood I search for the light

as my dreams come alive in the dead of the night.

I feel his sharp nails as he claws at my skin

the veil between sleep is so very thin.

But Fred’s not alone, Jason’s, there too,

and I know in an instant my nightmares are true.

There’s no where to hide there’s no where to go,

covered in blood it’s a dream, oh I know.

But the nails are real, and Jason still comes,

and i’m losing my life as I try to out run.

A small little nick on my porcelain skin,

Freddy is dancing as the knife slips in.

They laugh as they pull gut after limb,

Tearing it out, pushing it in.

An ebbing death for fear to bring.

Karen Hayward ©2017.

Image found on pinterest.