Nesta Scrudge by Richard Bell

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Nesta Scrudge was ancient
Skin like sludge and sun-baked fudge
She shambled on her veiny legs and muttered ‘neath death breath

Nesta was a foundling
Left in a bag with booze soaked rags
She only knew donated love
and contact from a wicker cane

Nesta lived a road life
From army to a leathered carnie
She rode the ghost train bumper
And lost her heart to scares

When the rolling funnel clouds
Made sunder her spooky wonder
She landed in an open field
Surrounded by her terror props

With the takings from the summer months
She bought the land, spat on her hands
And built herself a palace
From her dire imagination

The bumper cars were clown cars
Beef-heart red and living dead
They’d drive into a ghost town
Where the monsters lay in wait

Creatures fashioned from the corn
A pig’s blood rain in the house of pain
The demons and demented folk
And limbless laughing gorks

Word soon spread of this bazaar
A haunted land in hell’s command
She packed it full of horrors
And twisted nightmare fuel

Pitch black run-throughs chased by psychos
Asylum surgeries and cells
Vampire towers, werewolf woods
The circles into Dante’s hell
The hungry for live flesh deceased
The unhinged and the saw blade freaks
The dollies and the puppet scares
The whispered pleas to murder shrieks

Nesta saw each sunrise burst
As people fled their wallets bled
Her vision promised complete satisfaction
Nesta Scrudge, the mother of the famous haunt attraction.

Meg Muckel Bones. Swamp hag

Meg Muckel Bones. Swamp hag

Original written work by Richard Bell aka @rick_nightmare

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Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images web page/designer where it has been provided.
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I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

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Together Forever by Tony Norton

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Your Cruel kiss
Told Me it was Over
A Stinging Single Barb of Indifference
Hooking
Inducing a tinnitus of
Wringing Mental Anguish
Of Vehement Preaching Denial
Not daring…not wanting to believe..
Not accepting
Us …Halved
In Darkness
Enveloping
Fog Cloud of Doubt
Comes Creeping over My Fragile Mind
Every thought Occupied … by You
Intoxicated by the absence of You…
In Dreams..
I peer into Your hollow eyes
In nightmares so real
Devoid of feelings
Feelings once abundant
Once Teeming with love
Love once in the light.
No longer there…
Gone….
Lonely
Without You
Lonely and Dark
Selfishly I knew…
You had all but gone…
And then the Voice…
The Voice of Green Eyed Love
Told Me
It told Me that something as beautiful as You
Simply
Could not be given away
I could not lose You
Never
I prayed…..
I prayed …that there was another way…
That I could make You Love Me again under the Sun
But the Voice
It Knew the truth
The Voice
Calm, collected, reasoning gave me all the variables, all the possible algorithms.
Always Arriving at the same Conclusion
In Emerald Hues
You were mine to take in shades of Green.

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So my Dearest Darling, know this.
No one could love You like I loved You.
Like I love You
Now on this Samhain Eve, I bear witness to fates path.
I am here to do the bidding of True Love’s Voice.
It tells me, We should be… together
Forever
I cannot be this world without You
You are the air I breath
The flooding blood in my veins, the hope in my soul.
Hopeless without You.
On this Samhain, Your Swan like neck I do cut.
Jugular and Carotid, left and right,
You and Me – We are meant to be
I want our Crimson Tide Passage to be swift.
I’ll meet You on the other side.
Now at this Witching Hour the time is Liminal
We are both just a few heartbeats away from Eternity
From Eternal Love
I Love You
Together
Forever

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Original written poetry by Tony Norton

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

When the Darkness Answered by Richard Bell

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Time can be a heavy corpse dragged into a shallow grave
Minutes whittled down to seconds
Sharpened into vampires weapons
I wish I could regenerate
Return from death an awful sight
Pressed upon the window pane
A grimace caught in candle light
Macabre diseased deformed reviled
A sausage skin filled up with rot
Pus weeps like a widowed bride
Stomach churned with worms inside
Maggots writhe on purple bloat
Blowfly larvae flee in plumes
Putrid stench a pungent gag
Bulge until expulsion sag
And then in full moon savage disc
A calling to the fang and claw
Transformed, the star will shift in shape
The wolf is out and won the war
And lightening bolt a million volts
A twitch a judder spasm jolt
Stitched and pieced from many folk
Connected by a carriage bolt
A monster crush obsessed am I
From child on up to man
When asked what fear excites in me?
The darkness answered tacitly
Perhaps my loneliness sought solace
In the realm of fear and dread
When asked what makes my warm blood freeze?
The darkness answered quietly
All manner of bizarre and foul
Changing forms and evil freaks
A monster made by harsh abuse
Unstoppable and never speaks
There’s evil that invades the soul
There’s evil from beyond the sky
Abhorrent abomination born
To bring about the prince of lies
A chilling tale obsessed am I
From child on up to man
When asked what haunts my
vivid dreams?
The darkness answered gingerly
Perhaps the sadness of my youth
Was manifest in gore and fright?
When asked what gives me morbid glee?
The darkness answered selfishly
And as I conjure horrors up
To fill my ghoulish needs
What is your deepest fear I ask?
The darkness answered
Come to me.

Dark Lord Morgoth by Leadedblade

Dark Lord Morgoth by Leadedblade

Original written poetry by Richard Bell

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

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All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
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Fall the scarlet leaves by Richard Bell

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The breath of winter stings the morning air and chills the night descent
Growth is stunted by the tyranny
a failing sun resents
Longer than the eagle’s span
the shadows stretch to fray
Fall the scarlet leaves
a carpet of alizarin displayed
Undergrowth of blackthorn is
a barb to rival harshest tongues
Deciduous branch wept to bare the majesty is all undone
Charcoal streaks on battered canvas, skeletal and pitiful
Fall the scarlet leaves as nature bleeds, the fires wax lyrical
Darkness overwhelms the dreams of daylight in the autumn shed
Joy, that was frivolity in summer months, at roadside dead
Closed up to the elements are faces charged with grim reposte
The terse winds thick with vapour are a prelude to a gasping frost
The scarlet leaves are carried into circles as they dance the reel
A giddiness of children in the bliss of ignorance, they yield
To savouring the moment when their beauty captivates the eye
A shame the blaze shall soften pink when smothered by the silent white
Relish autumn russet, in its riches, scattered all around
For all too soon effulgence exsanguinated into grey and brown
Fall the scarlet leaves and be reminded in advancing age
That we should leave, as they leave, triumphantly
and not just fade away.

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Original written poetry by Richard Bell

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

Disturbed Sleep by Richard Bell

This is for the Freewill Writer’s Asylum inmates with insomnia.

Insomnia by point23

Insomnia by point23

Under the greatness
that is the night canvas
Tattered in shreds
of silver lit clouds
Everything round me
has closed for a respite
The dead of night whispers
“sleep, cast off your shroud”

Milk in the fridge light
chilled nips in my throat
My dreams have departed
on lantern lit boats
Reality sways
as my mind scape reboots
Insomnia scribbles
What the day never wrote

Pacing a groove in the
carpet’s bare threads
Lumbering bones with a
Mako shark brain
Soft soothing rhythms
rim shots in my ear drums
I can’t pull the cord
that will slow down the train

TV dissolves the last
remnants of dreams
A genie appears
in the whistle cloud steam
He grants me a coffee buzz swirled into cream
Insomnia takes me
Where the day’s never been

Ideas awaken
to conquer rem sleep
The dawn chorus chides me
For not counting sheep
Dreams cast the net
in the unconscious deep
Only my soul
is mine left to keep

Under the greatness that is
the night canvas
Festooned with gold dust
dropped into cassis
My mind is still racing
a blur on the metronome
Slowly I sink into sleep by degrees

The curious remedies
don’t work at all
The nets in the depths
they return to a squall
Plummet to earth when
my plane’s in a stall
Insomnia cushions
When I hit the wall

Insomnia let go
I’m ready to fall.

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Sleep Paralysis by ElusiveDreams07

Original Written Lyric Poetry by Richard Bell

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

The Tallow Cadaver by Richard Bell

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Black mass empty altar strewn with bone and blood and balter
Woods edge life snuffed ritually sylvan hate crime done in spalt
Between the dead leaf sentinels
a channel straight to hell
Beneath a hunters moon the blue sky aspirations felled
Black candle spent and hollow mixed up grume and
devilled tallow
The power in the ritual is spectral and all hallowed
Allied to the shadow prince upended on a cross
Shepherd in the valley of the sunset stained with loss
Insidious in crimson cloak misdeeds meticulous and foul
Inside the star the pure heart bound they feed upon its gowl
Fashioned from the evil wax
a figure cursed, enslaved
Vengeance is incarnate
hell’s magic so depraved
Fear the Tallow Cadaver
Fear the hate that it invokes
Fear the Tallow Cadaver
Fear the beast that once was woke
Exsanguinated lost soul left
in dirt by dark apostles
One of now so many when discovered murder fossils
Anonymous and treacherous
the coven called to swire
A promise for a willing soul
to reign inside the fire
Fear the Tallow Cadaver
Fear the irrevocable spite
Fear the Tallow Cadaver
Fear the contract drawn in skite
Cold light silent carnage hangs a charnel house rank stench
Prostrate at the hooves of he whose thirst is never quenched
In a cruel hypnotic trance behest
at his awful beck and call
The wax commands the corpse defiled and ready for the fall
Fear the Tallow Cadaver
Fear the dark intent
Fear the Tallow Cadaver
Fear what made it shent.

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Original written poetry by Richard Bell

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

A Brush with Death by Richard Bell


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When the wind extinguished the flame, the house fell into darkness and death in scarlet robes climbed the stairs in hypnotic serpent twists
In my bed, in my final hours I can reach out and grasp the light of heaven, waiting for stillness as on my brow the reaper places a steady hand
Regret meanders in and out of my chambered heart and cloistered head pointing rudely at my life’s indiscretions as the staircase to the blinding light is revealed
A sight beheld my withering eyes, upon the blast of horns, he spread his mighty wings and smiled as an old friend would smile when meeting in Elysium field
“I’m glad to see you, sweet death for my heart desires the peace of passing and my soul prowls this flesh cage as an agitated lion would. Show me life’s events in brief before my judgement call”
But all at once death folded his black wings and gazed upon the polished floor for in his hand the hourglass was not spent of sand and quick he flew till he was set against the moon and small
Why was I spared what I was sure was my last breath this hour?
Could it be unfinished business calling that I had more seas to chart or mountains of the soul to climb?
I pondered this thought over. I mulled it like a winter tonic and all at once the crushing stone that was the fever lifted and a gentle voice said “You’ll be fine”
At night, I stare up at the moon to catch a glimpse of his silhouette, the hourglass and gleaming scythe blade. For those with failing eyes and shortened breath a welcomed sight
Life is such a fragile vessel, a bauble on a Christmas tree. It shines for such a brief time so make each moment count as three. Cling to it and leach out all it’s joy for eternity is the only gift brought to you by Death.

Grim Reaper

Grim Reaper

Original dark poetry by Richard Bell

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

 

Martha Shamblebones by Richard Bell

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Inside the wings of the blackbird at dusk
Shining eyes fangs of the funnel-web spider
Skin pummelled lizard hide stretched over bones
That brood in their frame like a gnarled eyelash viper
Martha in ramshackle hut by the highway
Makes contact with dog saints and infernal shades
In potions of scorpion, locust and beetles
Bound in the black water scooped out of graves
Chant the death rhythms in slathered grume symbols
Her monstrous desires are a psychopath’s penchant
They welcome the sparks from the witch wood dark flame licks
“Come closer you wronged child and reach in for vengeance”
Her slashed purple tongue coaxes hellish addictions
She is a fable, a Mendes goat whore
A bête noir pulled from the black bible’s verses
And each curse is bound to the eye for eye lore
The shack lies in glamour a divine dissenter
Only the deep cut of loss can locate
She broods in the rafters where light dare not enter
To channel two kingdoms from ghost to flesh state
The black water binds the three into a monster
Swilled in a rum brew and spat in the dirt
What rises is demon that knows what they came for
By claiming the spirit still fresh from the hurt
Guided by Martha who stands in the dark flames
And calls to the wretch in the language of stones
Carved by a claw in the Babylon temples
Then laid at the feet of the beast on his throne
“Begone, be bad, be bathed in the blood
Be Baphomet’s fury, be Baal’s majesty
Be base, be bellicose, bedevilled beast
Be back, be bereaver, beholden to me”
Bent up and folded the red sky sits leering
As hours they butcher the night for the sun
The dark flames extinguished by agonised screams
The soul has been taken the deed has been done
Into the desert go wandering husks
Avenged and then emptied by Martha’s deceit
Like Babylon temple stones
The witch they call Shamblebones
Trading culled souls to sit at Baal’s feet.

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Original Poetry by Richard Bell

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

Wash Over You

Contemplative Bleed, Dark Poetry by Scarlet Genesis

 Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Scarlet Genesis

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Refreshing cool, tingles on my bare skin
Purifying, cleansing my soul from within
Grains of sand drip agonizingly slow
Suffering in misery, I await my final blow

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Splash on my tongue filled with seawater and brine
Warm rays on my face, a horizon defined
Tormented discomfort, my demise soon begins
Excruciating, restless, on needles and pins

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Finding my solace, breeze caressing my hair
No doubting at all, I have not a care
Hands are in motion, though remarkably idle
Leaving me listless, delayed arrival

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Buoyant and airy so weightless, so free
Utterly unshackled, heart filled with pure glee
Lung capacity shrinks with each labored breath
Anticipating my rescue line, inevitable death

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Embraced by the waters that soothe riled nerves
I’m securely coddled, so snug, well deserved
With each passing tick my termination looms
The Reaper growing nearer, treads into the room

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Waves growing choppy, it’s time to seek refuge
If…

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