Poems

Crooked PathsStep by step, the mile twists tight,Each choice you make steals the light.Throughcracks and shadows, the whispers climb,Forever lost on the crooked line. Through tangled woods where time won’t flow,My voice will guide,soft and low.”Each mile you tread securesyour fate,But every end arrives too late.” The road bends back, it swallows whole,Your steps absorbed […]

Crooked ManOutroHatband numbers tick their trick,the waste records her tread,She leaves with iron under ribs and heat in red.

Crimson LiliesOutroHer eyes roll back, red dust on her tongue,his crooked smile the last clear mark,He walks away with all her weight,a moving question through the dark,Garden settles,roots keep score beneath the bark—Tonight she lives,but every step he takes rewrites the arc.

Cracks in the SkyCracks in the sky, splitting apart,A shattering mirrorthat breaks the heart.Step through the door,face what you’ll find,The Crooked Man waits with your soul entwined. In every tear, a truth exposed,the lies you could not see,The past and future intertwine,a thread of misery.The cost of blending worlds is steep;its weight you cannot bear,The

Cracked ReflectionsCracked reflections, the lies they weave,A story told through webs ofgrief.Step inside where the mirror hides,And broken dreams still collide. Through the shards, I see a door,A chance to mend what broke before.Thefractured path, it beckons still,To climb, to rise, to test my will. In the mirror, the past is clear,A ghostly echo,but no

Cracked SkyTick tock, the hour bends,Time itself no longer mends.Crooked pathsand shattered frames,Who will break these twisted chains? Through fractured skies, the echoes rise,Ghosts of choices haunt hercries.The crooked man, his gaze severe,Whispers, “The end is drawing near.” The fractured sky begins to bleed,A test of heart,a clash of need.Through chaos brightand shadows thick,The answer

Coins on the TongueNot bad, right styling.. the styling should be more like an epic poem,song more lyrical.. And it should be in the twisted wonderland,not having the repeated characters as much in focus,some sides about Red Riding Hood as an elder choosing the Godmother’s world,and other characters in the world.. And other soulsthat face

Clockwork HeartTurn the key, ignite the flame,A soul of iron, scarred by shame.Clockwork dreams,lost in time’s embrace,In his gaze, a story etched on his face. Through steam-choked skies, he climbs alone,a shadow bathed in red,The echoes of a thousand lives still whisper through his head.“For what am Iif not this cage, a body built of

Cinderella’s SecretOutroMirrors keep her shape without the mask’s permission or disguise,She walks,and all that shadow learned the pace that she decides.

Cloak on the Thorn-Hook Red is not a girl anymore when the in-between woods open like a scar that forgot how to close,years have climbed into her bones like ivy, fingers crooked from fights with winter and ghosts only she knows.Her cloak is faded at the edges but still angry in the middle, red like