Angry skies of Satan

#acrostic *#poetslineprompts*

Angry cries from Satan’s soldiers
Negotiating the flames of hell
Grueling screams of deaths call
Redemption, a forgotten whisper
Yonder sinful haze of a broken soul.

Skies where once were blue
Killing innocence in crimson
Iridescent drops of life
Eye of sin, perpetual strife
Sinister the angry skies.

Karen Hayward ©2017 Image and wordsimg_20161110_142542.jpg

Cover them in Satan’s cream.

Once upon a day gone by beneath a deafening
thunderous sky. I waged a war on life
itself, gave my all with love and grace and
then just simply let it fall. I walked on sullen tippy toes
followed life’s incessant flow. Stopped for neither man nor beast
upon this life i’d lovingly feast. Once upon a day far gone
I danced to another song, with hidden lyrics and a tasty beat
constantly moving my naked feet.
I devoured hearts and stole away dreams
covered them in Satan’s cream. I never looked back,
never questioned my track, never cared for the consequences
my fear to attach was relentless.
Once upon a night long gone I sold my soul in the devils song.
I’ve since begged and pleaded to have it back
he only laughs and says ‘you’ll have only a crack.
You’ll see out, but they’ll not look back.’

Karen Hayward ©2017
Image and wordsimg_20160419_221320.jpg

Fires of hell in the depths of black eternity.

img_20160804_204455.jpg

Fires of hell whisper
my name in tranquil
undertones,
heavens warmth caresses
my soul in fierce
abandonment.
The shadows
grasp at my sole
black eternity licking
my existence.
As I dance in a field
of reality, energised
by dusks promise
of tomorrows delight.

Karen Hayward ©2017

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

Incubus, succubus the devil’s calling me.

image

I wonder are you the incubus
sent to deliver me into hell,
Or is it I that is the succubus,
am I the angel that fell.
I wonder who leads who to the gates of the abyss,
and will our shining lights be enough,
that the depths of despair we will miss.
I wonder do the angels deliver me these signs,
everywhere I look,
you are centred in my mind or is Satan working overtime.
I wonder am I the succubus that leads your soul astray,
or perhaps you are the incubus,
and I am simply your prey.

Karen Hayward ©2016
Image is not my own and can be found on Pinterest.