Victor's Gothic Poetry
Page One
Anger
My angry mind
plays tricks on me.
It tells me
I am superior.
I am correct,
I am invincible.
But my mind is flawed.
I want to scream
and yell and tell those
around me that I am right
and they are not.
My conscience is at rest
and my angry mind is free.
Free to hurt, free to lie,
free to do what I please.
My satisfaction is what I seek,
my pleasure is what I crave,
my lust must be quenched.
My anger must grow.
It shall survive
as will I.
Fear me!
My Damned Soul
If ever I had such
a thing as a soul,
I lost it many years ago.
A thing gone from me
which I believe
I never had at all.
My existence is mine
and no one else's.
My heart is mine to give... if I wish.
But my soul is non-existent.
A thing gone from me
which I believe
I never had at all.
So how can something be damned
if I never had it at all?
Alone
I love you beyond words.
My heart aches when we are apart.
Then why am I alone?
You parted without warning.
Leaving without a word.
I love you... and hate you.
My loneliness is driving me insane.
I hear my own thoughts
betraying me.
..."You love her!"...
Then why am I alone?
I sit in silence for days.
There is nothing left for me.
I stare at my reflection
and dream that you are here.
The mirror lies!
I smash the glass
and take the shards
and do what I must!
The world is much different now.
I see a dark cloud descending over me.
In a way it is comforting.
In a way it is cold.
My eyes close and I am gone.
Gone from this Earth,
gone from my sorrow,
gone from you
...forever!
Dark Madman
The dark skies above
beckon to me.
I seek the solitude
of shadows and
the freedom of the night.
My crimes will be legend.
My acts will be great.
Hushed voices will
speak my name, if they dare.
Standing amid the spires
of the city,
I am a giant!
a Titan, a god!
Darkness caresses
my every move,
and when I strike
you will not know it was me.
My flashing blade
will penetrate your very soul.
Making love to your flesh...
with metal.
And when you sigh
your last breath,
I will inhale it
to remember you by.
I am the Dark Madman
and I will seek those
who do not fear the shadows,
and me!
The Stranger
I walked the city streets
at night
looking for a stranger.
When all at once
I happened upon you.
Your dark eyes,
your fair hair,
your smile.
Friendly and safe.
We kissed and held
each other close.
My flesh against yours.
Our passions climax in
a spasm of pain.
Your teeth in my neck.
I saw my life flash
before my eyes,
I drifted toward a distant light.
But then you drew me back.
Your hand in mine,
your flesh against me.
Together we walk the night...
waiting for a stranger.
Mystic Eyes
Mystic Eyes
The dank recesses of
a dungeon, where no one
had trod these many years,
held legend of treasure.
A fortune in gold
and silver awaits
the one who breaches
the castle.
I walk the stone floor,
my footsteps echo from the walls.
The torch I bear is
all the light I see.
You stand before me
with your mystic eyes.
My heart flutters,
I gasp in fear.
I reach for my sword
and attack.
Your mystic eyes hold
the knowledge of the ages,
the meaning of life
and the essence of existence.
I lower my blade
and dare to move closer.
Your arms out-stretched,
you call my name.
I fall under your spell
and kiss your lips.
Now I am stone.
A statue in your garden.
But now I have
the knowledge of the ages,
the meaning of life,
the essence of existence.
I keep the answers to myself.
You see, I cannot tell anyone.
For I am stone,
a statue in your garden.
Lust
The candlelight by
which I read,
flickers as you
enter my chamber.
I turn. Your beauty
is inescapable,
your charm,
a false hope.
The light is dim
but I see you slowly
untie your bodice
before my waiting eyes.
Your breasts are bare
and I rush to you.
My lips caress them,
sucking, licking.
Together we fall on my bed
I smell your body you smell mine.
We both bare our fangs and make love,
as only vampires can.
Biting, tearing, ripping
into each other's flesh.
The pain is exquisite.
Our lusts are quenched.
Satiated we part,
you leave my room,
I read my book,
until the next time.
She
She walks out of the mists of time,
clad only in the sheerest cloth,
to hunt and acquire a mate.
Her prurient form is both seductive and wanton,
but her stolid expression disguises her inner lusts.
When she entered the tavern,
all eyes fell upon her beauty.
All were hushed to whispers,
the men could only watch,
as she prowled among the patrons.
Only one man caught her attention,
rugged yet handsome, virile and pure.
"He would do nicely," she thought.
She gazed into his waiting eyes and
all at once, he was helpless.
They depart to his room without a word.
They make mad, passionate love.
She gave her body to him without limitations.
After many hours, they lay spent, exhausted,
glistening with sweat.
In the morning, the man awoke,
to find himself alone.
He searched and did not find her.
He asked around the inn but
no one had seen her leave.
Rumors of a spirit which could
take on human form for just one night,
abound throughout the land.
"Was this what happened?" the man pondered.
"No! I do not believe in such myths!"
She, beyond the mists of time,
bore a child, a daughter.
And like her mother she would
stalk the men of the world,
and acquire her mate.
Pallida Mors
(Pale Death)
The wizards three do chant and spin,
around the blazing fire.
Evoking names of beings old,
hoping to inquire,
the secrets of great magic past,
the elements so dire.
But as they call the spirits dark,
amusing things transpire.
Creatures small and fetid now,
do dance from out the pyre,
and snare the wizards minds,
with songs of muck and mud and mire.
They kept the wizards entertained,
so that they would not tire.
From out the flames, he stood upright,
that cadaverous old liar,
and took the wizards one by one,
into the hellish fire.
The wizards three were taken down,
to join the moaning choir.
There they found the answers,
to the magic they desire,
but here they cannot use it,
for Pale Death now is their sire
