Spinning Tales of Misery

I found that my proclivity

Is spinning tales of misery

My readiness to conjure fright

Things that hide within the night

A gift, perhaps, but dark and foul

While conjuring the midnight howl

Midnight knocking, stranger stalking

Empty room, yet someone talking

Darkened figure, twisted shape

Door is locked, there’s no escape

My nightmare scene, it fills their dreams

Delicious thoughts, luscious screams

Terror lurks in the murky swamp

Faceless, wordless psychopomp

Leathery wings across the moon

Tragic times are coming soon

Piercing screech, a hiss so shrill

One leading to a gruesome kill

Heavy fog spills like a river

Smell of death, a ghastly shiver

Clanking chains, souls are claimed

Necks are pierced, bodies drained

Words are pouring, a dripping frenzy

Darkened lust, and blistered envy

Tales of pain, legends, and lore

The prison cell beneath the floor

Knotted ropes, whips of nine

Cloven hooves, the demon signs

Panic, madness, driving rage

Resplendent shocks, to fill each page

Oh, the horror, such prurient sin

My carnal vision of blade on skin

Madness spinning, blackness winning

Reality grasp, weak and thinning

The rabbit hole shows deep furcation

Succulent thoughts of new temptations

Bedlam wracks my thought to page

Manic spinning driving rage

Victims fall to desecration

While whispers echo condemnation

Forever altered, my psyche twisted

A curse some say, or am I gifted….

 

Additional Reading

If you enjoyed, Spinning Tales of Misery, and would like to read more poems and short stories, by American author, R.J. Schwartz:

His complete works on The Creative Exiles Website can be found here

The Gypsy Thread is a huge collection of his original work

Ralph also writes on HubPages

One of his recent books, Things That Go Bump in the Night, Poetry of Fear and Fright, is a collection of terrifying, dark, foreboding poetry that will certainly drive you into a safe corner with your back to both walls, and your eyes fearfully fixed on the doorknob.

Author’s Note

The image used for this poem is a digital representation of the Sarlacc Pit (wallpapers.com)

R J Schwartz
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R J Schwartz

I write about everything and sometimes nothing at all. I'm fascinated by old things, rusty things, abandoned places, or anywhere that a secret might be unearthed. I'm passionate about history and many of my pieces are anchored in one concept of time or another. I've always been a writer, dating back to my youth, but the last decade has been a time of growth for me. I'm continually pushing the limitations of vocabulary, syntax, and descriptive phrasing.

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