starfire1036

My legs are moving
faster than ever before.
They pull me faster and closer
to that rustic looking door.

Should I open it?
What will be inside?
Is it safety or
an unspeakable horror on the other side.

The nob turns slowly
but my hand has not yet grasped it.
I back away slowly
and the edge of the door seems to be following.

The doorway is darkened in a fog-like shadow
and my knees start to shake.
It's coming for me this I know
and it wants me for my soul is what it shall take.

The walls begin to grow dark
and my palms start to sweat.
It's been following me
but my heart and soul it will not get.

It's an empty feeling
filled with pain and grief.
It will steal my heart
because it is a love thief.

It's a thing called lovelessness
and it seeks to keep you alone
and heartless
and your heartbeats it shall postpone.

(brain fart comin' on) I'll think of some stuff during work. And finish it then

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beast

Even if you do not finish it this is a hell of a poem. It is kind of interesting, you come up with the most bi-pola stuff. It is either these deeply passionate love poems or horror, and here they are combined in that you mention the doorway could have either behind it. I enjoy reading stuff like this then reading I love you, or sensual love. The symmetry.

starfire1036

i am either hella depressed, lovestruck, or devistated by a lover when i write... so thats really where all my stuff come from...

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