Poetry Part 4

Hey readers, sorry again for this but i must continue or id be in trouble and im sorry for having to put you through reading them, they are pretty terrible, but im sure your tough people.

"Dark Lament"

the dark clouds hang
billowing its harsh cold wind
unrelenting it attacks
defenseless against the barrage
of a denied dream
tormented by neglagence
chained by pedastals
imprisoned under natures wrath
screaming with woeful serenity
the bitter memory sears
as the tears flow
dark the crimson river slowly ebbs
down his arms and feet
struggling against restraints
that are both physical
and illusion
heart shattered by a distraught grief
beautiful eyes pierced his soul
captivating words ensnare his love
silent weeping as a soul dies
in a bone chilling whisper
he sings his final lament

"Deaths Bloom"

a valiant desire
created from a dream
misery and heartache
haunt the wounded soul
the dark intentions
caused by raw emotion
bloodshed the cause for vengeance
satisfying a broken heart
heavy with woe
eyes tortured with the sight
of her with someone else
the jealousy breaks his heart
shredding the last dismal hope
of a light in the dark
seeking physical harm
to ease his insides
the tears fall
with a silent grace they crash
the steady dripping of
the crimson river flows
inducing a blissful agony
pain taking his mind off heartbreak
blackness surrounds as
an eternity awaits
no more suffering
no more pain
only peaceful nothingness
a means to an end

"Demon Strike"

watching your blood flow
like a plume of crimson roses
passes off both a wave of grief
and a dark satisfaction
having caused that victory
sends the soul into
a descending spiral of
despair
woe
hatred
destruction
these lead to the consumation
of a doomed and tainted life
can anyone fight back against this?
in the end even the good have weaknesses
the desires of our anger defeat us all
our downfalls being our own egotistical fears
the fight for domination and survival
destroy all sense of preservation
we all become blind at one point
it is in this pitch black
that decides what we can make of ourselves
do we follow instincts or deny them?
has anyone thought that instincts
are the repulsive voices of our own
inner demons
the ones waiting to strike
causing our own destruction
is a far greater defeat than
even the strongest warrior can withstand
everyones walls crumple
its just the duration that we can hold out against
when our defenses fall and we are vulnerable
what are we being subject to?
can we fight what comes at us
or will we succumb to the ferocity
they strike endlessly
taking away what dignity and pride we have
stripping us from our very souls
leaving nothing but an empty shell
sending us plunging into the darkness
alone, cold
forever tormented by the chains of misery
freedom a lost prospect upon the horizon
just over the dark edge of light
just out of reach of our grasping hands
again a humiliating torment our eyes cast upon us all.