Tag: demons

  • THE WRATH OF THE BROKEN

    I carried the wrath of the broken.

    Or maybe—

    It carried me.

     

    Are we broken for the better,

    Or just addicted to the dark?

     

    A rose in the mud.

    Wrong side of midnight.

    Nothing grows here—

    It survives.

     

    Shadows of old friends

    Linger longer than they should.

     

    Laughter echoes—

    Warped now,

    Still sharp enough to cut.

     

    There is a stillness

    Between breaths.

     

    Not peace—

    Just pause.

     

    We reach for it anyway,

    Mistaking silence

    For healing.

     

    Trapped in the quiet unravelling,

    We miss the tremors

    Of collapse.

     

    No impact.

    No warning.

     

    Just the slow, sinking truth—

     

    We were never fighting anything else.

     

    We became

    The enemy

    We swore we’d never face.

     

  • ON MY LAST BREATH

    On my last breath,
    I begged the night for a saviour—
    but the darkness stayed quiet.
    No one came.


    The cold laid the truth bare:
    in the chaos, in the ruins,
    no one is coming
    to pull you from your wreckage.


    Your salvation is yours.


    You save yourself—
    or don’t rise.

  • STARGAZING

  • Artworks

    I want to know the truth of your soul,
    Your strength, your story,
    The fire that drives your heartbeat forward through the night.

    I’m not afraid of the monsters you carry—
    The rage born of old wounds, the scars,
    The hurt forged in your bones.

    I am no stranger to the dark underworld;
    My monsters, my oldest companions—
    Linger like background noise that refuses to die away.

    But we are not our monsters;
    We are what we create from the mess they leave behind.


    Show me the artworks of your life.

    Create some magic with me.

  • My tears remain the same, but I will never be that me again.

  • Let Them Fall

    Let Them Fall

    Let them be who they pretend to be,
    and let them fall.

    Leave them to their misery,
    their hollow claims and borrowed skin.

    Negativity, truth, and karma
    will swallow them whole.
    For they are their own demon,
    their own slow demise.

    True colours fracture through the mask,
    the costume stained beyond repair.
    They hate the mirror of their own heart,
    so they hide inside a stranger’s face.

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    For a moment we are whole, delusions of the young.
    We don’t realise the ocean of black that awaits our older souls.

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    The earth held me when no one else did.
    I remembered myself in the space between the stars —
    in that breathless silence where the broken pieces finally settled.
    Somewhere between gravity and the void, I became whole again.

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    Tra fiori selvatici e vino, I toast the ghosts that never learned to leave me.

    I tear the petals, I drain the bottle, I dare the night to swallow me whole.

    I bloom where I burn.

  • Two Strangers Part Two

    Two Strangers Part Two

    Two Strangers met
    And accidentally fell in as more than lovers

    We had different demons but matching wounds,
    And sad past tales to tell

    Two broken souls
    Trying to find some guidance home within each other

    Sadly,
    The echos of fear, ego, and past trauma were too great
    Destruction and self-sabotage got in the way
    We became lost

    From drowning in your gaze
    Skin to skin
    To drowning in your absence

    Another scar to add to the map
    Out in the cold again
    At war with my head again

    Two Strangers met
    And fell in as more than lovers
    But Love is war
    Life is chaos
    And two lovers became two strangers again.

    – Two Strangers Part Two

    JACQUELINE LENTE POETRY

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    I’ve vanished in the silence.
    Buried everything in boxes, in the attic of my mind.

    Creaking thoughts
    Always trying to escape.

    My heart,
    A garden of lost things
    And empty spaces.

    – Jacqueline Lente Poetry
    – http://www.jacquelineannlente.wordpress.com

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    Creaking skeletal trees.
    Wolves with kerosene eyes.

    Ghosts crying in the walls
    While winter slowly creeps behind me.

    This internal battle is on the edge of dying dreams.

    Life plays the dark symphony
    The nights grow even longer, draped in the veils of wistful sorrow,
    And a small dying hope for better days.

    – Jacqueline Lente Poetry
    – http://www.jacquelineannlente.wordpress.com

  • Melancholia We Meet Again, My Oldest Friend

    Melancholia We Meet Again, My Oldest Friend

    In the space between endings
    Where the shadows settle

    Demons hide in the corners,
    Creeping aroung my delicate bones.

    My loneliest hour,
    Sadder than the skies crying out.

    The inevitable fall,
    The deepest inhale
    Before I drown in this violent storm of tangled memories and pain.

    Melancholia we meet again, my oldest friend.

    JACQUELINE LENTE POETRY

  • Serenity Is A Dream

    Serenity Is A Dream

    My mind is at war.
    My heart wants peace.

    One moment I am falling,
    Then floating the next,
    And falling again.
    On repeat.

    The demons creep around.
    Seeping into my bones.
    They have become my bestfriends
    When I am alone.

    Serenity is a dream far away from here.
    Reality is a prison.
    Constantly trying to escape,
    But never fully reaching the exit gates.

    – Jacqueline Ann Lente

  • Forever in Flight or Fight

    Forever in Flight or Fight

    I hate it in my own head.
    My own worst enemy.
    Wishing I was dead.

    The demons get too loud.
    The cloud of illusion rolls in quick.
    I can’t get myself to calm down,
    And realise,
    Its all in my head.

    Sorrow holds its grip tight.
    And I try and try with all my might,
    To overcome, to push through.
    But sometimes reasons are gone with the wind.
    The grip is too suffocating,
    And the screams of pain too loud.

    I am my own enemy.
    But at the same time,
    I am my own saviour.

    The battles are just ongoing.
    The end of the war is no where in sight.
    Day to day,
    Night to night.
    Forever in flight or fight.

    – “Forever in Flight or Fight

    – Jacqueline Ann Lente