The Macabre Masterpiece: Poems of Horror and Gore

By Justin Bienvenue

Horror, Poetry, Paranormal

Paperback, eBook

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4 mins


Buried Alive

Six fit under is where you should be
Buried deep in the cemetery
Under the ground confined in a casket
Better that then your head not chopped into a basket
Properly given a solid tombstone
Dead in the earth from vein to bone
Rotting, decaying, slowly losing form
Your corpse is getting cold far from warm
I hope you enjoy your eternal resting place
And I can just imagine the look on your face
Should be calm and peaceful, no need to thrive
But then again you were buried alive..

Depths of Hell

Burning through the depths of hell
Running around as I scream and yell
Engulfed in flames I’m about to melt away
Pretty soon I’ll have nothing to say
The lava is flowing and it’s scorching hot
Here in hell as I rot
Half of my face is no more
It was burned down to the core
Floating in the lava I can see coal
Soon the devil will acquire my soul
With just minutes to live I think of all I’ve learned
But it doesn’t matter anymore for I’m brittle and burned

The Minions

Wreaking of havoc, mayhem and breath
Out comes the disciples of carnage and death
The minions who make the brimstone burn
Put your intestines on a crane as they slowly begin to turn
Defy all that’s holy, for they are the seekers
Do the bidding for they are the devil’s speakers
They carry a burden and drag a heavy boulder
Around hot surroundings, their insides are colder
Their faces disfigured, charred and melted
From all the pain they have ever dealt with
A lonesome look about them perhaps sadness
This being for who they work for derived of complete madness
Their job is never done and it never will be
Working off the sins for all eternity

The Rage of Burning Envy

Judgements flames burn all who dare
Apocalyptic destruction lit like a flare
Meltdown, mayhem, malice and mace
Your soul indeed did the devil enjoy to taste
Too hot to tell how tales from beyond
The fire filled grounds continued to carry on
Victims wailing and screaming in pain
Some have for so long they are now insane
Punished are the ones who look down on fate
And now the future awaits with the opening of Hell’s Gate
With all the workers he has the devil can never have too many
As he welcomes all with the rage of burning envy

The Grim Reaper

The spirit of the dead is near
They’ve asked me to bring you all here
I can see it in your eyes
You all look despaired
I’d like to help you but I no longer care
I no longer can
It’s ripping my insides out and nothings there
I’m a victim to my own domain
To which I’ve put myself in my own pain
That’s why they have chosen me
They know I’ll bring them victory
My wrist have never bled
But you can still see some red
They have now closed the cage
I’m in a bit of rage
But there’s nothing I can do
Because people helping me is through
Some will never ever get to know me in person
Cause now I’m all alone in this Ancient Dungeon

They Without Morals

Who dares disturb those who sleep in deep slumber?
Deriving us from our caskets and tombs
Whoever you are it is but a wonder
And onto you I curse and cast doom
You have ruined our peace and tainted our dirt
Do you have not any shame?
For this I summon onto you the deadliest hurt
And inflict blasphemy to scorn your name
Now let’s see you get into heaven
Knowing you’ve angered those already there
I plague you with the deadly sins of seven
Until your distraught and can no longer bare
A cemetery is a confined place for the dead
You did not come to pay your respects
For every step in which your feet have tread
You shall feel the mortifying effects

Rage of Hades

I’m brutally defacing anyone in my path
My agenda is quite simple to cause chaos and wrath
My explanation for this? Well there isn’t one
This just happens to be my definition of fun
Words I go by; onslaught, mayhem, carnage and destruction
Without these four things surely I could not function
My plan of action is to cause total devastation
Until I cause havoc and there’s complete humiliation
Chemical warfare if you will because I’m chemically imbalanced
Putting people in early graves is just one of my many talents
Why kill two birds with one stone? I go for the whole nest
I am not satisfied with my work unless someone’s a bloody mess
Until the look on their faces has them mortally mortified
Their next stop should be the morgue but their gonna be buried alive
There is no caution just consequence you’ve been warned
If you defy this simple task you’ll be wishing you were never born

Declaration of Decadence

We hold no truths here and nothing is evident
No soul is treated equal this is no sacrament
Those that are here rot, they are not endowed by their creator
They are alienable, have no rights and the devil is their savior
There is no life without death, liberty without tyranny
And the pursuit of happiness here is just irony
You need no consent cause here your just a slave
Your body on earth decaying in it’s grave
Let this stand as your only rights given
You don’t deserve any since your no longer living
This goes way beyond any sacred document
Consider it to be your final event
When you lived you went by independence
Here you believe in the Declaration of Decadence

Hell’s Guardian

He stands by the gates with a hammer and shield
Those who wish to pass must first yield
He must look you over from head to toe
To truly make sure this is where you are to go
The underworld is taken quite seriously
And no one besides the devil is more inferior then he
Don’t get me wrong hell takes anyone
But those beyond pure of the heart are shun
And it’s his job to bring forth judgement
Consider him the advisor of hell’s budget
He looks for those with the darkest of souls
Or those who look easy to control
From lost spirits and brimstone he was created
Challenge him and prepare to be annihilated
However there is a price at fighting so hard
If you beat him there will be a changing of the guard

Summoners of the Unholy

Off in the distance chants can be heard
Conjuring up beings from the written word
From bats to demons to grotesque monsters
They are the real things, far from impostors
They speak in the form of the ancient tongue
Casting their words deep from the lungs
It’s hard to understand what’s being said
Unless you understand the Tibetan Book of the Dead
This is the text in which the strange spells derive
The innocent better run if they wish to stay alive
Soon a whole army of terror will be present
Things are about to be vile instead of pleasant
Is there anyone that dares to act boldly?
And put a stop to the summoners of the unholy



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