A loveletter, from Poatl to Nyoa

Before I begin the poem, I feel it's best to give a little backstory to both people in the poem, if you want to leave it to context, STOP READING THIS AND LOOK TO THE POEM. Poatl is a character of my own design, a deity of nightmares. He goes in to people's rooms as they sleep at night, and fill their heads with horrible dreams. Nyoa is his wife, who is scared of everything, including him. Part of the reason she loves him is his control over fear itself makes her feel safe around him, at least when he isn't scaring her.
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A love letter, from Poatl, to Nyoa.

Greetings dear,
           I hope your doing well.
Things are quite nice here, in the darkest part of hell.
By now you probably twitch with fear, worried for my safety.
Don't fret, to be honest, I've been bored of my work, lately.
I often long for your quivering touch
Though writing these letters, is a proper crutch.
I love you, dear Nyoa, now go to rest.
Think of the time we'll have, the very best.
One last thing, my dear sweetheart.
One last note, before I depart.


Don't look behind you.




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~bow~
Thank you. This is just something I came up with while pondering the twisted  relationship between my story characters.
Lastly, PLEASE COMMENT, I love criticism, good or bad, I just want to know I've got people reading. I know I haven't posted in the longest while, but I promise that will change.

For my Kitten: Enjoy.

Of all I drain, of all I lose, Never will I break.
Of all the weight removed, Hope I will not forsake.
I'll urge to binge and I'll beg to purge, but never will I break.
My body is mine, and it's mine to change, Hope I will not forsake.
I will look perfect, I will be thin, Never will I break.

And it all comes in ash and cinder

Here I rested, or was it there?
Sitting so blissfully, unaware.
My master had left, or had I stayed, behind?
The fire-watcher was in his tire, and in his absence, did a spark light after he resigned?
Then I was awoken by a bright gleam,
or perhaps was it a terrible scream, that woke me in the night?
There was the smell of a burning flesh, and was that ash, inhaled within my breast?
I lost my self as the  manor smoked, and I sat, in baptismal fire soaked
Did I sing, or was it She, belting from the rhine?
No,she sat there, weeping, at the throne of my master, the last memento, of a now ancient shrine.
"Ashes, Ashes, We All Burn Down"
                                    -Ode to Zeraph

A poem; Scant and Rose-like

You are scant, and rose-like.
You do not see,
Past the scales of society's jury.
I find it ever so sad,
to see sorrow plague the face of one meant so glad.
You are my love held by another,
made perfect by fallacy,
The best I've ever had.

Chapter 1: The beginning of a Journey in to Dark Musings and the human mind

At the advice of a close friend, I created this blog.
This is somewhere I created to share my thoughts, revelations, dreams, and philosophies.

I will update with poetry, short stories, and maybe just how my day went.