In the shadows, where darkness thrives, A twisted devotion cunningly contrives. A manipulative dance of false affection, A masquerade of love's cruel deception. They offer devotion, like a radiant light, Their words enchanting, their gestures bright. With honeyed promises and fervent desire, They stoke the flames of an inner fire. But beware the depths of their twisted devotion, For it's built on lies and hidden emotion. They feign a love so pure, so deep, Yet their intentions are far from what they keep. They pull you close with tender embrace, Whispering sweet nothings, weaving their space. But their devotion is a web of control, Designed to bind and take a toll. In moments of affection, they hold you tight, But darkness lurks beneath their gleaming light. They manipulate emotions, your heart they seize, As you yearn for their love, longing to appease. Yet their devotion is a poisoned fruit, A facade that hides their deceptive pursuit. They wield it as a weapon, a cunning guise, To keep you captive, under their lies.
Shadows
Sacrificio burlado
Version 1
In the realm of Lamos, where shadows
creep,
Vekir, the Guardian, was awakened from
sleep.
He gazed upon the hero, with a mocking
stare,
For something amiss, a burden she did
bear.
"Wait," said Vekir, his voice dripping disdain,
"Something's different, your demeanor
is not the same.
No longer noble, no longer pure,
What have you done, dear hero, to ensure
That ancient blade clutched tight within
your grasp,
A prize obtained by sacrifice, a deadly
clasp?"
He sneered at her, his eyes gleaming with
scorn,
As her tears mixed with blood, a forlorn
mourn.
Kneeling there, one knee pressed against
the stone,
Her heart weighed heavy, with sacrifice
unknown.
"Oh, how brave you are, a blade so rare,
Obtained by shedding blood, a life you dare.
Tell me, hero, who did you forsake,
To wield that weapon, your soul a stake?
A loved one, perhaps, once close and dear,
Their life extinguished, their memory
seared?"
The hero trembled, her voice but a whisper,
"Vekir, Guardian of Lamos, my heart's
blister,
I gave up someone, someone I hold dear,
Their sacrifice fuels this blade of fear.
You mock my pain, my burden so deep,
But know this, Vekir, even shadows weep."
Vekir laughed, a wicked sound in the air,
Mocking her anguish, reveling in dispair.
"Shadows weep? How quaint, a feeble plea,
A blade stained with blood, a heart torn
apart,
Your noble facade crumbling, a broken art."
Deceptive Embrace: Unmasking Love Bombing
23/7/20
In a realm of deceit, where shadows dance, There lies a tactic, a cruel romance. Love bombing, it's called, a manipulative art, A toxic allure, a deceitful sweetheart. With honeyed words and gestures grand, They sweep you up in their cunning plan. Like a whirlwind of affection, they draw you near, But beware, my friend, for danger lurks here. They shower you with praise, a captivating spell, Their affection overwhelms, like a sweet-scented swell. They whisper promises, make you feel adored, But beneath the surface, a trap is carefully stored. Love bombing, a facade, a twisted embrace, Designed to bind you in a tight, suffocating space. Their affections, like petals, wilt and fade, Leaving you broken, vulnerable, betrayed. Their love is a weapon, a manipulative game, To control your thoughts, your actions, your name. They prey on your vulnerabilities, exploit your desire, Leaving you lost, consumed by the fire. But listen, dear heart, do not be swayed, For love should be gentle, not a game to be played. Recognize the signs, the false promises they bring, And break free from the chains of their insidious string Hold onto your worth, your strength, and your voice, Don't let their love bombing drown out your choice. In the face of their tactics, stand tall and strong, For true love is patient, it would never steer you wrong. So, shield your heart, be cautious, be wise, Don't let love bombing cloud your clear skies. Find love that's authentic, built on trust and respect, And let manipulative tactics be forever in retrospect.
The Wicked Weave: A Coven’s Cunning
23/7/8
In shadows' cloak, where secrets dwell, Whispers weave their intricate spell. A guiding hand with cunning art, To bend the will, to play its part. Behold the art of Odessa Fade, A mastermind in masquerade, She wields her power, sly and keen, With choices twain, a wicked scheme. "If you desire control," she said, "Two choices, stark, shall lie ahead. One, a path that's filled with fear, The other, draped in allure, so clear." The first, a specter, daunting, grim, A choice that's fraught with terror's whim. A haunting choice, where shadows loom, A path that leads to certain doom. The second choice, a sweet charade, A tempting offer, cunningly made. A silver platter, seemingly blessed, The path of comfort, the very best. For many souls, enticed and swayed, By options deftly Odessa laid, They choose the mask of lesser pain, To quell their doubts, their thoughts restrain. In haste, they rush, their minds confined, Seeking solace, the easy find. A feeble shield, their doubts to quell, Under Odessa's beguiling spell. So heed this caution, gentle heart, When faced with choices, set apart, Beware the charms, the false embrace, And see beyond her treacherous face. For in the realms where freedom gleams, We must unveil these wicked schemes. To think, to ponder, to break the mold, And forge our paths, both brave and bold.
Charm’s Manipulative Dance
23/6/23
In golden words she weaves her tale, A charming guise, a captivating veil. "I'm pretty and smart," her lips declare, While her eyes gleam with a knowing stare. With cunning grace, she dances the game, A master of manipulation, her aims untamed. Her smile, a weapon, disarms with ease, As she weaves her web of sweet deceit. But behind that smile, a darkness resides, A heart detached, where empathy hides. Her words, like whispers, they beguile, Yet truth eludes her calculating guile. Beneath the surface, a dismissive air, She dances with power, devoid of care. Her laughter, a mask, conceals her intent, Leaving others to wonder where loyalty went.
For those who trust, her presence divine, Yet beware the allure of her beguiling design. Her charm, a façade, a fleeting ruse, Leaving hearts shattered, and souls confused. Oh, pretty and smart, she claims to be, But her actions speak louder, for all to see. A puppeteer of emotions, she plays her part, Leaving behind a trail of broken hearts. So be wary, dear souls, of her captivating spell, For beneath her beauty lies a tale to tell. In her realm of manipulation, she may reign, But true connection, she can never attain.
Immortal Warden
6/11/23
Prompt: The Immortal Warden
Oh, my misguided friend, make no mistake. This is no mere episode of corruption of my eternal conviction. I shall find no solace until I find my enemies writhing in agonizing pain beneath the pressure of my blade, begging for mercy amongst the bodies of their fallen brothers, regretting and ruining the day in which they crossed me. Which I shall deny them such mercy as death.
In shadows deep, where darkness dwells, A figure stern, the immortal Warden, tells Of battles fought with fiery might, And enemies crushed in eternal night. Oh, my misguided friend, he cries, This corruption breeds no compromise. With unwavering conviction, he stands tall, Vowing vengeance, to make them fall. No solace sought, no respite found, Until his foes lie broken on the ground. Beneath his blade, in pain they writhe, their final Breaths, the price of their strive. Begging for mercy, they'll tremble, they'll plead, Yet his heart of steel will pay no heed. Amidst the fallen, their brothers lost, Regret will consume them, a bitter cost. For they dared to cross his righteous path, Invoking the wrath pf this immortal's wrath. No mercy granted, no release from life, They'll taste the bitter edge of his strife. Oh. Immortal Warden, relentless and true, Your vengeance burns with a crimson hue. Through battles waged, your legend's born, A symphony of anguish, your enemies torn. In the annals of time, your name shall be sung, A mythic figure, with songs forever young. For you are the guardian, unyielding, unchained, Forever marked, by the vengeance you've attained.
Regretful Denial of Love
Kell: Look I… I can’t care for you the way I care for her. You know…?
Bianca: I know.
Kell: “You know–” Then why do you hang out with me like this anyway? Why do you spend so much time with me…?
Bianca: Well. Because I care for you. Isn’t that reason enough?
(Video gets cut off)
Marcell: Do you regret your choice now? Denying her feelings like they meant nothing.
Kell: You think holding me here will bring her back from the grave?
Marcell: All you had to do was care for her even if it wasn’t real.
In the depths of our tangled hearts’ maze,
Where love and longing intertwined,
A fragile dance of souls ablaze,
Two paths diverged, destinies assigned.
Kell, tormented by a love untamed,
His heart divided, pulled apart,
Could not reciprocate as Bianca claimed,
For another held his beating heart.
“I can’t care for you,” he softly spoke,
His voice laden with sorrow’s weight,
A confession that left their spirits broke,
Their bond tested, strained by fate.
Bianca, aware of his conflicted plight,
Accepted his truth with grace profound,
In her heart, a flickering light,
For Kell, her friendship did resound.
“Why do you stay?” he pleaded, distressed,
Seeking solace in her tender reply,
“I care for you,” she gently professed,
A reason pure, no question of why.
But regret loomed heavy in Marcell’s eyes,
As he observed the choices made,
He saw the pain, the love denied,
The consequences that wouldn’t fade.
“Do you regret?” Marcell asked, accusation in his tone,
Denying her feelings, like petals withered away,
He hoped to awaken what was overthrown,
To find redemption in love’s array.
But Kell’s response was resolute, yet bleak,
“Holding me here won’t revive what’s lost,
Even if I pretended, my heart wouldn’t speak,
Love can’t be forced at any cost.”
So Marcell, with pen in hand, crafted a verse,
An elegy for love’s shattered refrain,
A poem to capture the pain and curse,
Of hearts entangled, love’s bittersweet domain.
In the realm of words, he wove their tale,
Of Kell and Bianca, a bond misunderstood,
A tragedy of hearts destined to fail,
And the lessons learned in love’s tangled wood.
Veils of Deception
In the realm of passion’s dance, where hearts collide,
Lies a tale of seductive intimacy, deep and wide.
Where bodies entwine, like vines in moonlit grove,
And whispers of desire ignite the flames of love.
In the hushed moments when shadows caress the skin,
The world around us fades, our souls begin to spin.
Exploring secret realms beneath silken sheets,
We surrender to the hunger that our passion greets.
Like a delicate breeze, your touch awakens my core,
Sending shivers down my spine, craving for more.
Fingers trace pathways of longing and delight,
As we lose ourselves in the enchanting night.
Eyes locked, speaking volumes without a sound,
We navigate uncharted territories, unbound.
Lips brush like petals in a garden of seduction,
Tasting the forbidden fruits of our sweet eruption.
Beneath the moon’s seductive gaze, we intertwine,
Our bodies forming a masterpiece, divine.
With every gentle sigh and sighing breath,
We write poetry of intimacy, defying death.
In this sacred union, vulnerability takes flight,
Revealing secrets hidden, a clandestine light.
The dance of our desires, a symphony untamed,
Creating an intimacy that cannot be named.
Oh, the magic that blooms in this realm of dreams,
Where seduction reigns, tearing at the seams.
In each tender touch, we find our souls entwined,
In this seductive intimacy, forever enshrined.
So let us succumb to the depths of this connection,
Embracing the flames that fuel our affection.
For in the poetry of our bodies, intertwined,
We discover the essence of love, pure and kind.
Skin’s Veiled Vengeance
Shyeli: A man once told me to put on some clothes (menacing laugh)….So I wore his skin.
In the realm of shadows, where fears reside,
A chilling tale takes shape, where darkness hides.
A man, with arrogance, dared to berate,
Unleashing a venom that sealed his own fate.
“Put on some clothes,” his words unkind,
But little did he know what lay behind.
Shyeli, the enigma, with her eerie art,
Embraced his challenge, tearing his world apart.
She shed her gentle guise, a sinister ruse,
Slipping into darkness, where evil accrues.
With whispered laughter, she sought to amend,
Wearing his skin, a means to transcend.
The man’s visage became her twisted attire,
A macabre costume that fueled her fire.
She donned his essence, his identity lost,
A haunting transformation, at a dire cost.
Through the moonlit nights, she would roam,
Cloaked in the guise of the man she called home.
A chilling reminder of her vengeance uncurled,
As she taunted the wicked, making them unfurl.
Beware those who judge, with scornful intent,
For Shyeli lurks, her presence unbent.
She wears the skins of those who disdain,
Extracting retribution, their own sins to gain.
In the end, the man’s words came full circle,
A haunting echo, his fate now eternal.
For Shyeli, the avenger, remains in the fray,
A reminder that darkness will always find its way.
So heed this warning, as the night draws near,
Tread carefully, for Shyeli’s presence is clear.
Her tale of vengeance, in shadows it gleams,
A chilling reminder of the power of dreams.