#dark #death

The Ethereal Mist

The Ethereal Mist

Chris Mumford



Trekking through the ethereal mist, 

lost without guidance, not soon to be missed; 


How long have I been trapped in this most ominous wood, 

my voice grown hoarse, curdling screams do no good;


Silence has befallen the woods this dark eve, 

but deafening so, so I cant hear my self breath;


Night at-length has finally reached us, 

and it is darker than dark;

prodding and grasping at my outmost reaches,

knock against trees wrinkled bark;


“Don’t venture from the path, or you may never return”, 

words never heeded, to late now to learn;


If not for the ground,

I’d know not-up from down;

For how else could I know-up from down, 

when darkness surround;


It feels it’s been weeks since the sun has dared to come out, 

perhaps even months, more than a night no doubt;


My legs growing weary, and I need a place to rest, 

but deaths close at hand, perhaps all this a test;


Upon my awake, my legs start quake,

plagued by violent tremors,

hands cant help but shake;



What in the darkness surround,

by mossy oak I am bound;

perhaps never to emerge again,

I have finally been found;


For good or ill it seems rather plain,

what good can come from I being chained;


Fiercely I bother with my bindings,

but to no avail;

I’m trapped in this prison, 

my eternal jail;


But really Im no more, or less trapped than before, 

O’ what good is freedom, when your eyes wont make out the floor;


And really it may have all been an illusion of freedom; 

but i yearn for it now, to be free of this demon;


Soaked in cold sweat, 

my heart pounds in my chest; 


My fingers tip throbs,

I scream to the gods; 


But a voice answers near, 

“You wont find your God here”;

Your my play thing now, 

my only friend, my dear;


Most off putting was this familiar tone, 

Now more than ever I wish to be home;


It was a soothing voice, it belonged to a lady,

but just that shook my soul, driving me crazy;


Ripping and tearing,

trespassing in my mind; 

Fight back with all I have, 

fearful of what she may find;


What ill have I done to be deserving of this place 


Of course we both knew  we need not to re-trace;

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Fall from Grace

Prose Poetry


My guardian angels have fallen from grace

Just as I 

The death of their beauty wilts and withers the soft white like blowing on the Dandelions

Watching the drift scatter and fall to the ends of the earth 


Morphing before my eye into the skeletal deviations of daemons 

They now have a new director


Smiling in the presence of Death

Friends shimmer in the background 


I welcome them to bath in my own blood with each slice 

This world has drained me - I'm endlessly empty

I am no more

Lights out.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Standing in insanity as a Walking Dead.

- Me

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Left For Dead

Look at you now

All bloated and stinking

Feeding the maggots and flies

What were you thinking?


Did you think it would last?

Your rein of malicious intent

All the days of physical abuse

And nights of hellish torment


Your belittling ways, gave you such a thrill

How you chipped away at my sanity

Breaking not only my bones

But my dignity and will


You tried to control my thoughts

Your power over me you had to prove

By binding my heart and soul

So tight I could barely move


I had become just a toy

To amuse your twisted mind

To my misery and unhappiness

You were unaware and completely blind


But your cruel games are now over

Your time of tyranny is through

It was my life I had to defend

And that’s why I had to kill you


I wish they had not found you

Revenge or satisfaction I never really got

I wanted to feel your soul suffer


And watch your body rot!

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All that he has left


Gently I cling

To the tattered and torn threads

I know where they belong

It feels all wrong

He can't

He couldn't

This can't be all

That there is left

The small silver cross

About my neck

Embeded in knots and

Pure oceans water

Tattered and torn threads

About my hands

This can't be all 

That there is left

Gently wrapping myself

In the larger than life sweater

Gently breathing in the calm

Tattered and torn threads

This can't be all

That there is left.


Two am

Awaken with fright

I swore I heard his voice

From somewhere in the night

Calling my name

A whisper of the boy never the same

I swore I heard his song

Somewhere in the night

The way he would play

To ward off my fright

This can't be all

That he has left


In such a rush

The angel faced boy

With a voice of high song

He was so much more

Than what everyone saw 

For deep within

Lurked the darkened truth

He wasn't like others who enjoy their youth

Each moon that passes

I think of him as it hits my glasses

The soft lilting words

He once said to me

He was so sing song

It's weird this is a memory

Something inside

Refuses to admit

This can't be all

That he has left.


Breath in again

The threads tattered and torn

This can't be all

That he has left

Look again at myself

Reflected once more

The joy of a girl once so pure

For he was there

My gaurdian knight

He stood by my side

To ward off my fright

Mocked himself with 

A voice so strong

Where did he ever manage to go wrong

Still wondering now

How dark was this shadow

That seemed to bring him

To his own axe and daggar

That night like no other

One a child can't forget

This can't be

My biggest regret

The heart I own is now 

Tattered and torn

This can't be all

That he has left.


I stare again about his flower

Looking at myself in his blackened tower

A dark stone

For such a dark end

Then there's me I lost my only friend

Neither of us

Ever did any wrong

So why am I here without him or his song

Seeing now my heart so bleak

Knowing inside I am timid and meek

A heart tattered and torn

Just as his threads

So well worn

My one true friend

This can't be the end

Of all he has left.


The streets are filled

With faces I once knew

I can count them so well

Again it strikes two

There's his voice once more

Reminding me of what

Was overlooked before

That's what I realize

Deep down inside

That on that day 

The day he died

I was all 

That he had left

I was all that he

Never left.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I miss you every day Alex. This one is for you. <3 your free angel faced girl.

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Death of a monster

I feel like a monster.
My health has gone under.
The constant need to vomit.
Hydration is key.
This deception,
Of death.
For I seek death.
Away from this monster.
Away from this deception.
For I wish to be six feet under.
This grave will hold the key.
Under the stench of vomit.
Dry heave, purge, vomit.
Sickness that hints inevitable death.
My last words, redemption is key.
Is there salvation for me, a monster?
For in the dirt I lie under,
With life a deception.
For it is deception,
That makes me vomit,
And this plague I hold under,
Whispers sweet death.
Hides a hidden monster.
Who in her heart holds the key,
And it is that key,
That hides the deception,
To reveal this monster,
That makes me vomit.
Join me my dear, in death.
In my realm deep under.
I will bury you under.
Don't scream that is key.
Soon you will meet death.
I am sick of your deception.
Your presence makes me vomit.
You are the monster.
Here lies the monster buried under.
Choked on vomit, and holding the key.
Clothed in deception, and reeking of death. 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Wrote this for my friend Kayla 

Love In A Time of Ice

An eviction notice peaks from her pockets
Strapped up on the plain white wall 
A slim blue robe barely covers her plumpened womb
Faces pass, all nameless to her, 
Taking in stale air. 
The IV drips play rhythmic silence
All in hopeless cheer. 
Roads are filled with snow, sleet covers the stoops 
Most children clap their mittened hands 
To see Winter's grinning gloom. 
Passing by in silence, 
They bear enough respect to bow their heads, 
All of them viewing two tombstones above her bed. 
For somebody so full she's only skin and bones, 
Enceinte with death 
Winter has its tolls 
But when that child suckled from her supple breasts, 
Life seemed so forgiving to those with gentle breaths. 
And when her frail arms hold him 
They meld from two to one
The way I like to tell this story, 
Heaven welcomed them.
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Purgatory Or Salvation


What is life?


Is life Hell?


Some of us mortals


can never tell.

Life is long,


life is tough;


but death is easy,


when your number's up.




Death can be caused


by a car, a rope, or knife.


Or a simple gunshot,


can take away life.




Even a fall,


from a terrifying hight,


will leave you in darkness


reaching for the light.




When the time comes,


The Reaper is there.


His job is to free you


and take you somewhere




Where that place is,


Only he can show you.


What that place is,


No one can get to.




Unless you are dead,


and free from life's grasp.


But all you have to do


is perform this easy task,




Now in my thoughts,


I've had a revelation.


Is death purgatory?


Or simply salvation?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

First post, sorry if some things dont make sense. I wrote this for a class and i was depressed at the time, so this came forth. Any criticism is welcome and much appreciated.

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