Painted Puppets

Dark poetry

Through the twilight hours
soldiers of death march
along the rivers of blood and decay
stars do not shine down
and only thorny bushes remain

Mighty wings glisten with pleasurable pain
images howling in the barren winds
whispers of nightly creatures
heard in the ringing of bells

Soldiers of death march on
routine list checked
hands of these shadow demons
grip tight
laying all life to rest




Painted Puppets
A Poem by Dark Beauty

Painted puppets
wake in the night
black death
takes souls into spinning flight
they pray for vengeful breath

Eyes shut with webs of might
being led
painted puppets laugh with piercing sounds
It shakes and stirs
wicked stench a flow

Grave stone met
kneeling upon my knees
the bloody dagger
cuts my heartstrings
they taunt to come take part

Painted puppets
rule the bitter sky's
I arise cold and dark
transformed in fiery dance

Fearless of painting my new mask
in the sanctuary of tombs
sharp arrows pierce all light
taking the life of my soul
for I am a painted puppet tonight


Smiling with morbid truth