Self Made Poetry 2

By _Night_Rose_

5.2K 1K 988

My self written poetry, of different varieties. All writing is original, artwork is not mine. More

Play With Me
Die For Me
The Count
Forever
The Night Rose
Fading Away
Night Skies (Collaboration)
Midnight Dove
Things We Don't Say
Wild & Free
She Stays
Don't Cry
The Puppet Master
Oh No Tea!
Run
Because It's You
Darkness Is Calling
Broken Heart, Bruised Soul
Beautiful Lie
My Song
Nice Try
That Bright Star
Anxiety
spiraling
keeping It Real
I Shattered
Still Alive
I'm Trying
Lies
Journey Through Agony (Collab)
The Wicked
Transylvania
Bridge Of Sorrows
Blackened Soul
Midnight Jubilee
Life's A Game
When You Call
All Those Lies
Knots
Heed The Cries
Children Of The Night
Death Came Calling
A Vampires Tale
Without A Trace
Broken And Tied
Far Far Away
Kiss Of Night
Can't Run, Can't Hide
Lifes Reasons (Collab)
The SandMan
Ruby And The White Raven
Rose Of Death
End Of The Line
The Night
Bliss
At First Sight
Mistress Of Death
Midnight Kisses
Rushing Back In
Summer Night Breeze
Hell Child
Soul From The Sea
Lilac Moon
After Their Gone
Unbound Ties
In Loves Name
Death Befalls Her
Darkness Returned
Heads or Tails
Vampire Masquerade
Ghost Ship
The Dolls
A Day Of Fun
Come One Come All
Sleepy Hollow
Dark Magic
Forest of dreams
Moon Light Garden
Sucked In
That Was Then This Is Now
The Witches
The Death Line
Wishes And Dreams
The Heart Heals
It's Been A While
Whispers To The Moon
The mermaids Song
The Night

Set Free

47 10 18
By _Night_Rose_

Under the house came the faded sounds of scratching on wood.

Damp dirt and a dank smell hangs in the humid air.

A feeling of being stared at if you dare to venture down there.

Stories circulate about the history of this house.

Perhaps to scare away the unwanted.

Maybe a warning to spare their unsuspecting souls.

Something dwells here.

Deep in the shadows watching, waiting.

People moving in only to stay a few days.

Year after year.

Always the same.

Those who leave perceive it to be pure evil.

No one speaks of what they have seen.

Some victims deemed insane.

The new owner purchased it at auction.

"The deal of the century" he said.

"It's a steal" he boasts.

What he doesn't realize, his new home host's a unsettling history.

It brings death to many who come to reside here.

Appearances aren't always as they seem.

Long ago, so far back no one really knows when.

The strange activities began.

Scratching on the doors and floors.

The sound of walking up and down the stairs.

A heavy darkness that clings to the air.

Then the whispers start.

The rasping breath in your ear.

Urging you to look under the house.

Her spirit's trapped there.

The life they gave no regard to.

Her grave.

Yet she can't rest, her spirits distressed, and enraged.

She longs for her story to be told.

For her body to be found.

Only bones and a old vhs tape lay on the ground.

She was just a girl.

A orphan, ward of the state.

Brought here to stay.

But it wasn't a normal home.

So many times she desperately tried to run away.

She was beaten and locked in the basement forced to stay.

Abused in depraved ways.

Kept in the dark and chained to a wall.

Being called names and jabbed at with sharp sticks.

She would beg and pled for help.

They filmed her torture getting sick pleasure.

The day she finally succumbed to the pain.

She died, expression of terror locked on her face, eyes open wide. skin riddled with bruises and burns.

Painfully pale and thin.

Bones jutting from her ravished skin.

They dragged her and tossed her under the house rolled in a old sheet with the tapes.

Proof of her tragic fate.

Here she stays.

Haunting the house.

Seeking help so she can move on.

She haunts all who come.

Hate drives her to tell her horrific story.

Shes been gone and trapped here for so long.

She watches him.

Soon it will all began again.

She whispers in his ear.

He glances around nervously.

Calling out "is anyone here?"

The scratching starts and foot steps softly running down the hall.

He walks from room to room.

This feeling of unease increases as he walks towards the back door.

The scratching louder under the floors.

Curiously he starts to pry away the wood.

She whispers urgently.

Your nearly there.

Frightened he quickly scoots away.

He struggles to keep his fear at bay.

The scratching starts again louder this time.

His heart pounding he looks down on the ground under the kitchen floors.

He spots something, grabbing a light to see what he has found.

There buried half way in the ground, lays the vhs tape and bones of a human hand.

He calls it in.

Sitting out on the steps waiting for help to come.

She appears before him, standing near.

Her voice floats through the air.

"You have nothing to fear."

As she slowly fades away.

He hears her softly say.

"Thank you for setting me free."

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Just a few bits and pieces of poetry I've written over the years. |On-going|