poetry-of-hate

With You by poetry-of-hate, literature

Heresy:Anguis Britannicus I by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

Heresy:Anguis Britannicus I

Heresy:Anguis Britannicus Chapter I Morgan woke up early.The mist hadn't dissipated yet.Slighly dizzy he went out to breath some fresh air,than he remembered,proffesor Septimius would come today.A quick smile flashed over his face,he liked Septimius, he wasn't the kind of man to make compromises,truly fanatic about his philosophy,he embraced the old ways of the greek thinking with a slight twist because he was an atheist.He'd come to Brittannia from Mediolanum to avoid both christian and pagan persecutions. -Don't follow this religious nonsense,he used to say,you only have one life.Be self disciplined and focused on what you do a

The Eye of the Storm by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

The Eye of the Storm

The Eye of the Storm As passion seems to rise from fear, The fear of throwing in a gaze, I'm stealing now the truth so near To the forbidden end you praise. Completion of the vicious circle, It strangles me as blood is leaving now my face. The quest of finding any mortal That cannot leave this earth without a trace. I'm touching ground and walking blind With no more sins now left to mourn. No path ahead,no path behind, A traveller inside the storm.

Structural Dreaming by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

Structural Dreaming

Structural Dreaming Another step into the right direction, You watch yourself as goddess of the kin. Another turn to misconception, I'm ripping carefully your skin. You try to scream forbidden words Envisioning ecstatic sins. A prayer to the pagan lords... I'm touching now your inner strings. The bleeding wax is deconstructing realms By binding torture in the clash. Rebirth is near and then it dreams The elevated clergy of the flesh.

The Beast Within by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

The Beast Within

The Beast Within The hidden marshes that bestow the gift Keep luring in and then they hatch To rip again and then deceive. Deceiving touch. Unearthly beasts and angels rise in violence As i am kissing up your ears and neck. They're breaking down the silence As you break. The poison of my skin and the demonic scents. The signals that you keep on sending Whenever you might think it ends, That's neverending.

Narcotic Innocence by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

Narcotic Innocence

She's sliding now,along the walls, Ignoring all,but all of us, Unable to resist the casual calls, Pretending that the hope is lost. Among ourselves ,she raises now the glass Without the slightest sense of worry. Forever knowing she's the last... A master in the bussiness of marking territory. She's touching now,electrified sensations The scarring of our souls,the beauty of her face A war without a declaration... A senseless love lost now within a maze.

Urban Warfare by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

Urban Warfare

Urban Warfare The sun is melting down into a cup of coffee. Gray,weary rainbows of nicotine addiction Are touching up the ceiling in a sublime decay. Enlightened silence brings its own destruction Forever missing the sanest of the noises, It shuffles down a bare, cruel laughing And folds itself by killing off a rumour, A tingling rumour of some odd corruption. The crowd of empty souls is building now its coffin Without the slightest sense of logic,but with reason, And with their health intact as they are coughing A hunt begins for one that does not say. For they have felt the way to that odd something... To lead,not push,the dar

The Desecrated Forest by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

The Desecrated Forest

The Desecrated Forest I'm running through the forest of my fears Destroying puny anthills on the way. The green serenity stops capturing...It disappears... Machine like steps keep hammering the silence that i lay. The choking smoke of burning leaves Keeps drying up the blood inside my veins. The dirty pools reflect the desecrated trees, A snail is crawling on the void it claims. The blackened sky keeps angering a nonexistent god, By mirroring itself in grinded flesh and hollow breath. Demented sponge like creatures keep reaching for their mud As they surrender quietly their death. Forgefulness surrounds me and I kneel, I'm watch

The Journey to the North by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

The Journey to the North

I walk alone the train is empty. Some child laughs,his mother holds him tight. I watch the snowflakes,still so tempting. The frozen windows keep flowing through the night. A sudden halt,the snow is showing power, Alarming rumours of uneasiness and cold. The people though don't act like cowards... They all seem happy,wise and old So after many frozen moments The shadow of these rails is real again. There are no promises of torments... I'm careful as i disembark the train. But nothing could prepare me for the frostbite. Through all the snowy storm,i feel again alone, A simple smile though,barbaric like a sunrise, I smile for i ha

Dechristianise by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

Dechristianise

I'm watching as you try to reach My truth,your truth and all of our lies. I cannot understand the beauty of this leech That keeps you slave.You cannot rise... The rigid crisp morality you follow I bend with easiness and pride. This warm and useless faith...so hollow I break... and then you tell me that you've cried. You bathe yourself in masochistic sorrow And drying up yourself in some sadistic dreams. I beg of thee be free tomorrow And feel again the flow of life within your limbs.

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With You by poetry-of-hate, literature

Heresy:Anguis Britannicus I by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

Heresy:Anguis Britannicus I

The Eye of the Storm by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

The Eye of the Storm

Structural Dreaming by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

Structural Dreaming

The Beast Within by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

The Beast Within

Narcotic Innocence by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

Narcotic Innocence

Urban Warfare by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

Urban Warfare

The Desecrated Forest by poetry-of-hate, literature

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The Desecrated Forest

The Journey to the North by poetry-of-hate, literature

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The Journey to the North

Dechristianise by poetry-of-hate, literature

Literature

Dechristianise

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Valhalla by bcain, literature

Literature

Valhalla

Dawn breaks and light floods the silent halls of the Viking afterlife. Drums begin to thunder in the distance, the poundings of hundreds of feet shake the earth. An almighty roar splits the air as thousands of dead heroes clash in battle. Steel flashes, shields are splintered, blood is spilled. Battleaxe clashes against sword, pike against mace. A warrior grimaces as a dagger enters his ribcage, pulling it out, he fights on. The drums continue, increasing in tempo. The sun reaches its zenith and many have fallen, yet hundreds fight on. Sweat drips from every brow, the smell of death fills the air. Block and attack, parry and thrust,

Deviation Spotlight

Assassin by poetry-of-hate, literature

Assassin

About poetry-of-hate

Artist

Romania
Deviant for 20 years
He / Him

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My Bio

Current Residence: Bucharest Romania
Favourite genre of music: dark metal(gothic or black)
Favourite cartoon character: Dexter
Personal Quote: Aberatio humanum est

Favourite Movies

Requiem for a dream,The 9th gate

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Therion,Haggard,Burzum,Nightwish,Within Temptation,Apocalyptica,Ataraxia,Dead can dance

Favourite Games

Vampire The Masquarade

Favourite Gaming Platform

Tools of the Trade

notepad :P

Other Interests

my coffee my cigaretes and the long lonely nights

Posts

Feb 16, 2005

Tide of change...

0 min read

Things have changed a lot since my last journal entry New friends,new clubs,new poems and the same old me +Clubs+ Poetry related: ~poetic-forms (https://www.deviantart.com/poetic-forms)  :iconMonolith-Verses:  :iconAsThouWilt: Fanclubs: :iconmetalheads:  :iconMDB: :iconAgathodaimonClub: Regional clubs: :iconromania-club:  :iconeuropeans:  :iconbucuresti: special thanks for :iconSaNiTaRiuM-LP: who created my avatar and also to :iconUrsa-Wise: who created the preview picture for my poems Accomplished artists that rock: :iconkaamos: :iconarioth:  :icondesrengier:  :iconszilvia:  :iconddreams:  :iconwatermonster: I have founded a brand new club :iconrandom-guerilla: T

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Mar 2, 2004

got it all straightened up

0 min read

I tried to work a lil bit with the psp ,then i realised i suck ,so for now i'll keep creating poetry hell yea,my first attempt at fixed form poetry,this was harder than i initially thought,came out right though... i think i'll go back home this week,the semester is over,so i won't be able to vist devart for some time,hmm... maybe i'll finally manage to write something that doesn't suck finally back,there's nothing more boring and annoying than my hometown,i'm blank minded,hate this feeling,but i begin to feel the rush of the city,meeting old friends,getting drunk,i feel the energy slowly building up once more PS I'm on heavy lookout for i

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Dec 18, 2003

just arrived here

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and i don't have the vaguest clue of what to do next

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Profile Comments 83

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daggerSpawn

Sep 13, 2006

..interesting...see some poetry of hate on ...

DaggerSpawn.com -lyrics

I love you're poem

If you had looked at my work, you would have noticed it was open not like your fixed work.

Next time, keep it off my page!

It was not the form that I attacked, it was the content ful of cliches and easily classifiable in the garbage poetry that fills our lovely devart.

I will keep it off your page as I can fairly easy rant on mine.

Anyway you should not interpret this as a personal attack, try to take it instead as some very harsh criticism. If your next poem will have at least some faint scent of originality I will have had accomplished my work.

Best regards, George

diamond281

My poetry is emotional as in I base it on my current emotions. Every emotion is different some better than others for poetry.

Maybe look at my poem "bubbles" but if your gonna very harshly critisis that poem, please don't bother commenting

Nonemotional poetry is impossible to conceive, just try refining it to the point where nobody will be able to "relate" but simply be amazed and trapped by it.

Criticism is suppose to be harsh, a perpetual state of denial won't get you anywhere. It's simply a matter of evolving and growing. Believe me or not I was doing you a favor.

Emotionally yours, George

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