Lions and lovers, both equally jarring
Scary to even the strongest of us all
Heart stopping, jaw clenching, head and soul sparring
Run and hide? Be chased? Or stand firm and stand tall?
Face heartbreak with one; the other a marring
Away from both, on hands and knees we may crawl
Does that mean from ourselves we should disbar them?
Or take a chance, test fate, to both of them fall?
A #strambotto (8 line poetry, 11 syllables per line, rhyming scheme abababab) for the #PoetryOlympics on Instagram
#LionsAndLovers #AugustFalls20 poetry challenge
He peeped from the window. He had a beard in white. He was not Santa, but he was the horror of her night. He was the man she often saw in her dreams, a visitor of a strange kind. He never spoke, never smiled, he only cowered and cried.
When she saw him in her dreams, she knew something wrong would happen. A massacre resultant of politics or a natural calamity. She feared this visitor now more than ever. With passing days, he visited her often.
That night she decided to go to bed unusually earlier. She missed the call from her friend, who wanted to tell that the murderer she sent to jail when she was a jury member has mysteriously died in his sleep.
The fact that I don't feel guilt or bad about what I did, really scares the shit out of me.
Monday 3 pm, I hear a phone ringing on a table next to me in my office. I look at it and see a name flash ie "Vaibhav" . It's the same name as one of my friends and hence I remember it. I come back home and go to sleep. I have vivid multiple dreams but the only thing I remember or put an effort to recall was unmistakable pronouncement of a name in the last dream; Mrs Lamput.
I wake up at 3 am and wonder what a strange name,never heard of it before and I don't watch television, so let's Google it. I find out it's just a cartoon series and not any person.
But wait, the creator's name of the series is the same as the one that flashed on the phone the day before; "Vaibhav". This is just one o...
The Darkness is Coming by Fọlábòmí Àmọ̀ó
*The Darkness is Coming... *
The door is open.
Monsters might be lurking.
Do you see your life as just a token?
Would you even live long enough for your story to be spoken?
Stop shivering, start praying.
Stop screaming, start acting.
Stop looking, start running.
For the Demons, are coming.
Your dreams, they are haunting.
Your blood, they are craving.
For Your sound, they are listening.
For them to pounce, while you are sleeping.
The Boogeyman is in town.
Pound, Pound, Pound.
The heart sounds.
Silent, goes the town.
Empty, goes the crowd.
As the Darkness, grips the clouds.
Even the King shall not be saved by...
There's a voice in the hall but there's nobody there.
There's a tinkling piano, a creak on the stair,
a candle that flickers and spiders that crawl.
A door that won't open, a thump on the wall.
Strange objects in jars and a dusty old broom.
A chair, rocking gently, in a cold, empty room.
The clock in the drawing room stopped long ago,
yet the pendulum silently rocks, to and fro.
Don't look in the mirrors and don't turn around.
Stay out of the cellar and don't make a sound.
For this house, it holds secrets so dark and so old,
they would turn your hair white and your blood would run cold.
So get out, while you can and whatever you do.......
Don't come back...
The classroom was empty but she was still sitting on her chair. Everyone left but she couldn't move. She looked outside the window: her other self was staring back at her with that wicked smile. "Today. Today. Today," she could read on her lips.
She couldn't run away anymore.
The most fearsome monsters don't reside in the corners of darkened rooms. It is those that linger within our own minds that we should truly be afraid of.
Sometimes there is beauty in the macabre, just as there is occasionally something gruesome in beauty. One must immerse themselves in darkness to truly see the light.
I walk in my bedroom at midnight after a long day of work. It was Friday the 13th. I try to go to sleep but I can’t. The first thing I grab is my tan teddy bear with it’s piercing black eyes. I instantly fall asleep. I wake up at 3 A.M, “The Devil’s Hour.” This dark shape was staring at me. I saw it's dark eyeless sockets from the light of the full moon.. The shadow was shapeless from the waist down and there was black smoky mist everywhere. Mostly coming from under my bed. I sit up moving to the corner of my bed, my back pressing against the wall as I squeezing my teddy bear. All I felt was this sticky and goo...
A scary celebration..
It’s been a few years that I have realised this one thing about the seasons and it touches my soul in many ways.
As soon as the monsoon ends, the weather goes a little dry and it’s
🍂 autumn🍁 and it gives me a really weird vibe!
In my country, the colourful, traditional and celebrated festivals arise around this time.
I used to love this part of the year as it is so calm and there’s a sense of silence even in the noisy world around me. That silence is my own and it makes me feel so nostalgic and I lose all my senses to understand.
It is beautiful yet scary, as I go through all the flashbacks that made me who I am.
Today as I was walking by the road in the eve...
When I learned that my beloved was having a fling that night, I sent a flying fork straight into their eye at dinner.
The one that always twitch when they lie.
It's been a long and busy week for her. As she walks on the side of the road, her backpack feels heavier with each minute passing.
Of course, it's not easy to carry a backpack full of body parts. But once she reaches the bridge and drops it to the river, it will all be over. Forever.
Ghosts by Fọlábòmí Àmọ̀ó
I believe in ghosts.
The haunting memories of nightmares past.
The spooky stories buried inside.
The life I thought I left behind.
The demons I thought I left in the past.
The scary torment of which I thought I was free.
The sins I thought were forgiven.
The bodies, deep; that I hoped were forgotten.
The creatures I thought were dead to me.
I believe in ghosts.
I see them taking form.
Circling, over a prey they thought was lost.
Rejoicing, that their moment has come.
For the hunt, has just begun.
I believe in ghosts.
I’m all alone in the dark.
A dark and creepy night.
Armed with nothing but the moon’s light.
I believe in ghosts.
Short horror story
"Hi Henry, meet my friend, Alexander," says Mullin.
"He thinks he has Dissociative identity disorder."
"Oh! What makes you think so Alexander?"
Asks Henry, staring himself in the mirror.
[Writers note: Dissociative identity disorder (DID), previously known as multiple personality disorder is a mental disorder characterized by at least two distinct and relatively enduring personality states.
Spoiler for dummies:
The three characters in this short story are different personalities of the Protagonist.
Spread awareness. Spread short stories! ]
Paper used: Evil Twin ( ironic)
Writer: Anuj Dasgupta
Penname and Instagram handle poe...
Can you see me?
I am the sudden coldness in a room.
I am the movement that catches your eye.
The familiar perfume that turns your head in a crowd
And the heaviness on your shoulder that comforts you.
I am the voice that whispers your name
And the feeling that you’re not alone.
I am here and I am patient my love.
Do not hurry to join me.
Gail Lapping 5/4/19
I miss the cold breath.
Midst of nightmares it'd keep me awake.
Eyes couldn't see what the mind didn't know.
Somehow I didn't know her but I saw her everyday.
A reality I'd like to chase.
Now and then.
Just during my nightmares.
To keep me awake.
The cold breath.
Another day, different thoughts and the time for another letter.
Desire is a word and feeling well-known to everyone of us. However, sometimes we don't really know where it comes from or what the causes are. It comes so spontaneous and unexpected but at the same time it is strong and could sometimes make us do stupid things...
I have a boyfriend for couple of months now. I am 21 and this is the first like real relationship I have. He is amazing and treats me like a princess. I love him and he loves me back. Everything is just as it is supposed to be and still... I had this dream last night. It was about a guy who became my best friend in the last year. I woke up and f...
My friends think I'm so done.
For each of I am a different person.
I can't show them, but still it burns,
Can't take their staring ya.
My blood doesn't flow it runs,
Playing with skeletons for fun.
Breaking, jumping, they'll learn,
That I am not normal ya.
I'll peel off the stitches off my face.
Play around with ghosts at my base.
I just enjoy this, this rushing fear.
Normal is what I don't wanna hear.
Crazy, maybe I am mad,Probably
the only psycho Friend you'll have.
Don't bother to ask me, if I'm alone.
And ask me if something's wrong.
I don't dream, cause it is a killer
The only butterfly that still is
The kiss of a lake....
With an axe stuck deep in my chest,
I walk the barren night woods,
The heaviness lost in foot steps,
A vicious red dripping down the handle,
An evident trail for the wolfs that follow,
Heaving, I took my final breath,
stepped towards the water bed,
No ripple in the darkness of her lake ,
A light hymn in black dress,
Calling me in, a seductress
Dragging my bleeding self in her waters,
The chills now rose to my chest,
Bloody clouds leaving dissolving thin,
The copper on my lips said
My blood was tasteless,
vines of ice engulfing my neck,
eyes submerged deep in
saw the pain leaving in the bubbles that left my breath,
My tears unseen adding to her body,