PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

it is so much colder

that i had ever imagined.

down, where i fell.

just missed heaven

now this is hell.

he doesn't wear plastic red horns.

he's draped in crimson with a crown made of thorns.

i can't find the entrace.

this must be the first layer of hell.

there's no burning flames at all.

not even a candle.

there's no damned souls or bastards in sight.

just, him.

gone so young,

my sunken eyes prove more than years.

left before many,

i don't have anyone waiting

to welcome me.

so it will be me alone,

entering the underworld

cloaked in loose linen, instead of gold.

i know my chains have been growing

heavy over the years.

my knees are buckling

and struggling to keep

from being dragged down to the floor.

all around me is blue,

i can't see past the feebleness of my fingers.

it's so hazy, i'm blinded

by this navy fog.

until he finds me,

and the smoke clears.

i see him upclose.

he has the face of an angel.

i saw blood dark as night

fall from his crown,

and landed on his tanned cheek.

i try telling him.

nothing. i can't say a word.

i move my lips but nothing comes out.

he's looking at me, trying to take my hand.

he's the fucking devil, so his wish is my command.

he leads me down deeper,

his eyes match his robes.

he's more worn than i remember.

i used to give all my love to him.

i'd rip his heart out and fill it to the brim

with love.

he'd accept it, protect it,

but more often than not, neglect it.

told him i'd die for him.

well, now, here i am.

i cannot speak, and he has nothing to say.

typical us. typical him.

but he's the baddest man in town 

and i definitely want in.

he pulled me down to the deepest realm

where we sat and relaxed by the pool.

he said, "honey, are you thirsty?"

doesn't wait for my answer,

sometimes dancing with the devil can be pretty cool.

he said, "baby how are you?

i haven't seen you in a year at least

and you look so marvelous tonight.

it's your big day, hunny.

are you ready for some fun?"

we walked down the hall

holding onto the walls for balance.

he leads me with one finger

as if this were a challenge.

opens up the door to a room

with pink and yellow lights.

he weeps to me,

"oh how wonderful it would be

to take you as my lover.

would be my ideal situation.

but with my line of work,

sweet darlyn, damning you is my obligation."

when i put my hand on his cheek,

that's when he starts getting weak

and forget why i'm down here in the first place.

he laugh into me,

"so what will it be then darlyn,

vodka, or sangria?"