the Old One, the Nameless Fear

By tinkdarkchyld

The grave is my land for I walk with the dead.

My home is fallen in ruin, lost to time.

I am a forgotten soul.

My head weighted down by fevered memories.

The echo of a million lives lived, none used well.

I have kissed the thorn of the blackend rose.

Drawing honeyed lies from my tarnished lips.

Falling like poisoned rubies, smooth as sullied silk.

Eyes I've stained ebony with eons of acts of devastation.

I view the world of my design.

I am the overlooked soul, the claimer of men.

I kneel to no one, beneath my feet the bones of the fallen.

I plead for no one, I smile at the sound of their torment.

I am unending, forever, eternal.

We will meet in the crimson garden at the end of the road.

If its me you see, smilng my teeth coated with blood...

Lay down and welcome the pain, languish in the glory.

You are the damned, and I am your only reward.

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© 2009 tinkdarkchyld
Published on Wednesday, June 24, 2009.     Filed under: "Horror" and "Poetry"
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