life…

Choices, they have to be made

the game of life, it has to be played.

Stagnated, soured water and death

avoid all choices, and its all you have left.

Heart breaking decisions beyond all reason,

a heart that never changes, unlike the seasons.

It soon turns to ice learns only to hate

until you are knocking at the devils gate.

Choices they have to be made,

the game of life, it has to be played.

So be brave, my dear life soldier,

or else your precious soul grow colder.

Fear not the repercussions, but regret,

it will follow you, never to forget.

Karen Hayward ©2012 Edited 2020 Image and words

Devils Love

Sometimes, I sit and wonder.
Is it my soul you plan to plunder?
What then are you waiting for?
Do you really think me the devils whore?

Sometimes you sit and wonder
can you really her soul plunder?
What is she waiting for, you think
'My sweet, innocent devils whore'.

Sometimes, they sit and wonder
Late at night when the worlds in slumber.
Why is fate so truly cruel?
Is this the only way must we let the devil rule?

Sometimes, the devil sits and plunder’s,
all the thoughts of love and wonders.
He shares with I and you the love
to help us through each day that’s tough.

One day we’ll sit and wonder
for the lost days that life did plunder.
And we’ll be grateful to the devil,
that in our true love he did revel.

Karen Hayward ©2012 - Edited 2020 Image and Words. 

The Piper Plays

…sent by the devil is it all just a test?

Offer me temptation and let

human nature do the rest…

Karen Hayward ©2012 – Edited 2020 Image and words

Let me love you as…

Let me love you the only way I know how,
With one foot among the flames of hell.
My halo hanging from the door as Satan                                                                                bangs down upon the floor.

Let me cherish your being the only way I’ve sought,
In whispered tones of unsaid thoughts.
In the endless space of empty words,
And the blank spaces that go unheard.

Let me adore the softness of your inner soul,
With shy blushes and a rising tide of a love I know.
With gentle thoughts and the slightest touch,
As the devil screams this is all too much.

Let me desire the very all of your being,
In broken sleep and heated dreaming
As need escapes, transforms the room,
and I beg and plead, take me soon.

Let me relish in our touch the only way I could,
With devil kisses in those places I never should.
In a trail of unforgiven memories across your skin,
Tainted now by our enchanted sin.

Let me devote myself to your spirit, with empty vows of love,
And let us hope this alone is enough.
My succubus soul and hearted sleeve,
And let these be the mortal sins of life we weave.

Karen Hayward ©2016.

Image found on WordPress library

If life were at my mercy a gun about her head. . .

If life were at my mercy with a gun about her head,
I’d ask she bring you to myself, to lay upon the bed.
Safety off I’d tell her so, that you are mine to have,
And life would know right there and then, she’s at the mercy of my wrath.
And for my mercy she would plead
whilst begging I tell her of my needs.
I would say, in a gentle whisper,
His touch upon my skin to linger.
The gracious feel of his wandering tongue,
and the pleasurable feel of his caressing thumb.
And life, with a gun about her head,
would say, ‘You want him here inside your bed?
To feel the devils touch of sin
lingering on your precious skin?’.
And I would smile and pity her,
and ponder who she once were.
Yes. I want his touch upon my skin,
Yes. I want the devil’s sin.
Oh life, surely even you can see,
what his touch could do to me.
And for a moment, gun about her head, she smiles,
then opens up my battered old file…
Sorry dearest, she does say,
Ive checked it out against his name…
and you have nothing past today,
for it seems your futures are still…being made.
So, I look her in her eyes and shoot her in the head,
then call out to the devil as she whimpers whilst she bled,
and the devil comes a crawling,
for he’s heard all that I have said,
he smiles, winks and says,
‘let’s get him in your bed’!

Karen Hayward ©2016

Image found on Pinterest

Let me…

Let me love you the only way I know how,
With one foot among the flames of hell.
My halo hanging from the door as Satan bangs down upon the floor.

Let me cherish your being the only way I’ve sought,
In whispered tones of unsaid thoughts.
In the endless space of empty words,
And the blank spaces that go unheard.

Let me adore the softness of your inner soul,
With shy blushes and a rising tide of a love I know.
With gentle thoughts and the slightest touch,
As the devil screams this is all too much.

Let me desire the very all of your being,
In broken sleep and heated dreaming
As need escapes, transforms the room,
and I beg and plead, take me soon.

Let me relish in our touch the only way I could,
With devil kisses in those places I never should.
In a trail of unforgiven memories across your skin,
Tainted now by our enchanted sin.

Let me devote myself to your spirit, with empty vows of love,
And let us hope this alone is enough.
My succubus soul and hearted sleeve,
And let these be the mortal sins of life we weave.

Karen Hayward ©2016. (Image and words)

Inferno.

Rocky road, winter terrain

beneath rainbow skies. Shallow

graves where the heavens do cry.

I search an empty horizon

for the lost shadow of your self

that wandered there aeons before.

But alas, the devil has been,

snared you within his claws

and dragged you beneath the

surface to life’s burning inferno.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

Fuck, fuck, fuck…not this time either.

Fuck, fuck,fuck, fuck, I’ve numbed my existence switching off my mind my only resistance. Now my words are stuck in a constant cycle of rotation and the silence is insistent. Shake me, my emptiness rattles against the iron bars. Is this what bliss is???? Fuck, I cannot see the swaying trees, the fiercely flying buzzing bees. I cannot feel the earths vibration you look at me with fucking elation. Watch me crash watch me burn, by now I should’ve learned. You have the string tightly wound, a little tug, a little pull, you bring me down, where I belong upon the ground. Are you waiting still, for my mighty fall where upon my knees I beg of you to help me please, are you waiting still? Tell me of the silence that you feel in the emptiness of your reality. I’ll pause, I’ll sleep, I’ll pause for my needs, I’ll pause I’ll sleep. I’ll pause for my needs. You reward the crash standing guard as I break, good girl, good girl, you set your sights too high, you were never meant to fly. Be still let me wipe away your fantasies, lay still watch as paint dries, this is your existence. The sky is for others,  the setting sun for another, stop looking at the flowers, stop looking at life….You will eventually snuff out my light, that I know to be your aim, for me to be like you incapable of shame. You want the light that burns inside, you’ve begged so many times as youve tried to tear it from my soul, so many times you have come close, so many times I have looked darkness in the face and questioned my reality. And so many times the devil himself has whispered back ‘Do not give it up. Do not give it up.’ You believe you are fighting angels, stealing the last light of goodness from a soul certain of heavens gates, but you are wrong, you fight the devil and he will not give up my light without an explosive war. So please, pull me to my knees and wait for me to beg for your assistance, flames ignite my light with my every resistance. I’ll pause and I’ll sleep. I’ll pause for my needs. I’ll pause and I’ll sleep. I’ll pause for my needs. 
Karen Hayward ©2016

Image from Pinterest.

With the devil at her side.

Digress beyond all reason pick apart my words, the devil knows your name he listens and he’s heard. With venom in his horns and poison on his tongue it angers him to see you hurt his fallen one. He wonders why you hate, he wonders why you sneer, he wonders why it is his angel keeps you near. He gives to her a pen to write away her woes,  a smooth and empty page a place for her to show. He gives to her the heavens and skies upon the earth and fills her waking moments with an eternal mirth. And still the devil wonders why she cannot see her worth.  With angels at her feet and halos in the skies, he gives himself to her to teach her how to fly. But she will not leave the branch she will not trust the fall, brick upon brick she builds another wall. And deep with in her mind she wanders in a haze around the constant walls that create her chaotic maze. He knows she will not fall, for the devil knows it all. He ponders on his quest and searches through the mess. He has to find the answers, what keeps her rooted there, he searches through the darkness to find what she won’t share. And down upon his knees, crimson tears roll across his cheek, for the root that he has found it runs so very deep. He pulls and he tugs and carves it with his knife, pleading with her please break free from this life. For the devil knows your name, he hangs his head in shame spitting venom in your tea in the hope that you will see and set his fallen angel free. But the devil has a nose, there isn’t a scent he doesn’t know. He smells the fear in your blood the indifference in your sperm the spite on your spit, and suddenly it all fits. So the devil in his wisdom, as wise as he can be, conversed with the angels and made a plan to set her free. As darkness falls he whispers in her ear, as twilight is he pulls her from her sleep, as day begins his angels weep for the shame that hides for the shame she keeps.
But the devil takes her hand and pulls her too her feet, with the devil at her side she will never be beat. With the devil at her side, with the devil at her back, she’ll walk through nettled paths and stumble upon rocks, but with the devil at her back, she will find her beaten track.

Karen Hayward ©2016

The full moon calls out to her wolves

The full moon is calling to the wolves, to dissect their prey and spread blood
curdling atrocities among the fallen.
Hearts breaking, souls torn from
existence, spirits nullified in the whispered hush of Satan’s love.
The apocalypse is upon man as
their blood is tainted with the indifference of deceit fuelled mist
that descends from the pits of the abyss. Selene is calling for her souls.

Karen Hayward ©2016