Poems

The Possessed MirrorIn a room of lavish gold, stands a mirror dark and old, Reflecting more than what is real, a haunted past that it conceals.Figures move within its frame, whispering tales of sorrow and shame, A cursed glass that holds the night, revealing horrors in its light.pulling those who dare abide, Faces shift in […]

The Phantom ShipIn the fog where the ocean sways, a phantom ship sails through the haze, A ghostly crew on haunted seas, whispering tales of tragedies.Lanterns flicker in the night, casting eerie ghostly light, Figures move with hollow eyes, haunted by their final cries.Beware the phantom ship that sails, with ghostly crew and sorrow’s tales,

The Playground After Hours The playground closes at duskbut it opens again at midnightfor children who do not go to the schoolthat sits behind the fence. I know because I watched it from my window,every night from age eight to thirteen.The swings moving without wind.The merry-go-round spinning without hands. The slide was the worst.Something descended

The Night of the Fluffy Killers (Prose)Draw near, if you dare, to this grotesque tale of dread and dismay,Where a town lies settled at the edge of an ancient forest’s sway.This village, unremarkable by daylight, becomes the backdrop for fear’s cruel ballet—A place where midnight feasts on peace, and the moon’s cold gaze keeps the

The Night of the Fluffy Killers (Prose)Draw near, if you dare, to this grotesque tale of dread and dismay,Where a town lies settled at the edge of an ancient forest’s sway.This village, unremarkable by daylight, becomes the backdrop for fear’s cruel ballet—A place where midnight feasts on peace, and the moon’s cold gaze keeps the

The Night Parade of Rogue KingsSneaking between the broken lines of midnight,Through empty arteries where the city’s heartbeat once was bold,Soft thuds echo, barely more than a hush—The pitter-patter of a threat that moves in packs, never cold.Once tender companions curled by lamps, with ears that twitched for crumbs,Now kings of urban ruins, their coronation

The Lethal Bunny RuseWhere dusk collects its silence and gardens wear a veil of gloom,Bunnies emerge—soft fur lit by moon, the air perfumed with doom.Their faces, sketches of innocence, are blueprints for deceit,With every hop, a world is tilted, with every twitch, a scheme complete.A thousand eyes, both wide and glassy, blink with calculated wrath,Beneath

The Masquerade of Madness Beneath the mask, we’re all just lost,wearing smiles, hiding the cost.In the shadows, we all play pretend.A life of lies, but where does it end? Twisted faces in the mirror stare.Hollow eyes, but they don’t care.The darkness whispers sweet temptation.In the masquerade, we’re lost in imitation. Welcome to the masquerade of

The Last Carrot (Prose)Gather close and witness how innocence curdles, how the world’s quiet heart is laid open by the smallest jaws—this is the legend of the final carrot, a tale of ruin and wry defiance, where blood and roots tangled beneath a sky torn between the promise of dawn and the rot of betrayal.It

The Last Carrot (Prose)Gather close and witness how innocence curdles, how the world’s quiet heart is laid open by the smallest jaws—this is the legend of the final carrot, a tale of ruin and wry defiance, where blood and roots tangled beneath a sky torn between the promise of dawn and the rot of betrayal.It