Posts Tagged ‘Violence’

He’s coming for me,
Even the storm outside does not cloak his steps,
Mr. Ash,
The frigid wind tries to hold him back in vain,
The rain whispers “flee”,
Each stroke of lightning is a plea of “run!”,

My attempts at going underground failed,
My thieving insult to him will be repaid in blood,
I glance out of the window fearfully,
I see him nearing even in the black,
It’s like staring into evil itself,
It’s like looking at the apocalypse in slow motion,

A demon,
A God,
Or something altogether more alien,
Long spindly limbs,
Pale and hairless,
He is dressed literally to kill,

His emaciated limbs bear barbarous claws,
Claws that have ended lives since time began,
And perhaps even before,
His mad eyes are wide open,
His grin filled with murderous intent,
He’s coming for me,

His form appeared at my door,
That grin still glistening,
Despite the horror that was about to ensue,
His rangy form must nearly crouch,
But I still feel like a frightened child,
The monster under the bed is real,

Even the bravest slink in terror,
And fear the name of Mr. Ash,
Even the maddest see reason,
And fear the name of Mr. Ash,
Even as my body is torn limb from limb,
The storm continues unabated.

MrAsh

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The scales of the judiciary are straining,
Sob stories and crocodile tears can tip them,
Lenient justice.

A nameless man kills many innocents,
But he has a wife and children,
Lenient justice.

An addict slits a barflys throat,
But she has a diseased mind,
Lenient justice.

A young bandit beats and robs an old crone,
But he has no home,
Lenient justice.

A cackling clown takes children away in his van,
But he is from a far away place,
Lenient justice.

A husband beats his wife to the edge of dying,
But he has friends in high places,
Lenient justice.

Lenient justice is the order of the day,
Criminals drink to their crimes,
While victims lament in their anguish,
The scales have tipped.

Justice

If you ever travel along highway 666,
And night comes,
Beware the screech of tires,
Unholy calls and mad incantations,
And the smell of sulfur,
The Hellraisers may be near.

Where they ride,
The damned rise from the depths,
And pillars of flame tower up,
To an orchestra of demon cries,
Where they ride,
The very world reels in fear.

Riding out from a hellhole of a bar,
Riding atop scorching metal steeds,
They claw streaks of flame,
Into hallowed ground,
They laugh in the face of the heavens,
Drunk on mayhem and whiskey.

Leather-clad and riddled with tattoos,
Black sunglasses and infernal grins,
And boots that reek of oil and gore,
They curb-stomped the angels,
And kneecapped your Savior,
The heavens went up in a sawnoff blast.

They are chaos incarnate,
They ride to an apocalypse,
That only they can see.

Hellraisers

Should have stopped them,
Should have said something,
Should have stepped in,
Should have broke it up,
Should have told them no,
Should have stopped the blows.

I didn’t,
I stood by.

I didn’t defend her bones,
I didn’t shield her face,
I didn’t uphold her honor,
I didn’t guard her innocence,
I didn’t act as her guardian angel,
I didn’t save her soul.

I just watched,
I stood by.

Bystander