Dealing with Demons

Lupo Nero By Lupo Nero, 23rd Aug 2013 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Poetry

The devil on my shoulder
the tar in my grin
my dark passenger
and my only friend

Lust for Eternity

be gone from me
wretched shadow
stalker; shiv in hand
killing my admirers

envious creature
allowing no com-
passion to enter

first you snuck into my soup
down my throat
then into the seat-

heart exposed
then barricaded
made whole,solid,
cold, un-forgiving
bold, -non-living.

you ugly ghoul
be gone, I say
be gone, be dead
disease of mine

come back I plead
I need you now
I need to bleed

beautiful devil
I need your blight
dive in me
and release
as light

I beg for lust
strokes of it
many I beg
be slow
with it

I cried before
but now I
shout in joy
I swear
your love
is bare
naked lips

give me immortal kisses
so that I can be as you
I become a demigod


Pour me a shot...

Numbness is my desire,
starring ice-cold inhales from
a stale cigarette.

Give me a dance...

Sex is my empire,
featuring awkward conversation
and the slut begging me for dominant deliverance.

I say...

Who is it you wish for?
Your knees falling so effortlessly
to the hardwood floor...

She once was a woman of love,
truth, and.... convictions.

I say...

What is it you need?
Mockery, humiliation...

I need another drink
my mind is becoming weak yet bold
the night is becoming young yet


Snake bites to my wrist
she awakens me with a kiss
and the devil adds another
win to his list.

Purging Satan's Blood

The new guy doesn't matter
he is but the dust of our beautiful disaster.
although its love I'm after
I'll settle for your lust
be my beautiful disaster.

Blight could rain on me
and still the purity of this
broken engagement would stay
in tact.

In fact,
I know you sleep cold, alone,
a stone, heart broke like a bone.

You know I yearn, burn,
toss and turn for the lesson has yet to
be learned.

In due time I bid
with a promise on my lips
that you find to forgive
it is me that has lived.

And died, for death is not forever
war, what falls is the dove and its feathers.

What persists is the infinite bliss
who would of thought
it all started with a kiss

how did we end like this.

Poison from the Devil's shiv
poked sternly into exposed ribs

leaving bleeding, for scavenger feeding
meaning is mean to a mean species.

Stop...dreaming and pleading with hope for proceeding
grow a pair, stop and stare, lose all faith, fuck succeeding.

Stop believing, and be believing
quit wishing, for it's not what your keeping.

not when but what you're leaving.

I am the Devil's reaping
its red flesh I am eating.

The wolf is now feeding.

Tricks of the Trade

The scramble for victory
is the demise.

Contradictions are complex
ideas are "tossed-around":
all too vague and unimportant-

although the owner's desperation
is so obvious...oblivious...odd.
Down-straight stupid.

attention w---- or seeking attention whorish-ly.
we see no difference, division, denomination
its all the same

they thank a god and then hate him
blame him... escape to him.
confusing, calculating, destructive

setting our world back with promises of "change'
moving forward with innocence in the range

And I'm strange?

Probability is probably your best chance at a gain
or does flipping the fraction express numbers of pain

Counting, letters, alphabetical slaughter
words- in backwards order
are you catching my drift
or dropping the ball

I see that your puzzled, is it me
that's at fault.

Drowning in sorrows the sorrow of drowning
a smile on my face but upside down I am frowning


Failed attempt
is a win if you see the
zero as a hero

It's all perspectives, personalities,

exiles and pedophiles dance on the graves
of the butchered and beaten slaves
or rave at the temptation of pleasing their rage.

Cages, prisons, marks, this is not a ramble
but a properly, well-put-together, accurate example.

A perfect pieced puzzle
like a dog to a muzzle.

This is proof I am right,
and the science of being wrong

This is the end of your games
and the start of my song.

Say Ayy praise the new king.

I sit comfortably, content, brave

and in shape.

No brakes
dont shake
just wait
the wolf
has gone

Burning Illumination

Red moon
Bleed blue, dream of a white moon
red mist over a pure blue sky.
Dream true, see gleams of a new doom
twist, twist, white moon begins to die.
Flee soon, or face with courage
the demon's cry.
I am reborn, remade, in the image of
a holy eye.
Red moon, red moon, come clean
I need your shine.

Stranger (the wolf's point of view)

Petite girl in a crimson hood
down a dirt path
under the
silhoutte of
an engulfing

Everday she took this way
we patiently stalked
behind dead willows.

It could have been...

the unavoidable aroma
of mommy's cookies
or the soaps, and oils
soaked into her skin.

Poor red, will never see mommy again,
and grandma...

Will face laceration
with no hesitation
we aren't cruel
we are one with our
lustful nature,

and must feed the frenzy
of our undying hunger.

I licked my lips, and approached her:

"Dear girl what are you doing in this
forest alone?"

"I'm taking grammy

-she said shyly,
with a paranoid smile-

"May I help you find your
way...a girl so small
shouldn't be left astray."

"A nice wolf you are! I thought
they were all mean, and
blew houses down
with a huff, and scream."

Smiling from
fang to fang,
I led cutie-red
to a terrible place.


I have her,
she is all mine now,
and oh tonight is
the night I
take a body,
and use it for
my hobby,

red's head is in my lobby.

Paralysis in my hand:

by the lips,
I ambushed
in a deep
and little red
was never seen

Roadside Vermin

there are no such things
as new beginnings,
just the habitual pursuit
of ending

lie we,
just never see demise
as it brings blight to the truth.
there is no such things
as happy endings.

it's all brick walls
and thinly veiled cellar doors
the way
life goes on
things never change

empty stair cases
and etched mason stone floors
they pray…
that death befalls
revolution will persist

loss of sanity
comes slowly
and subtly
like Chinese water torture,
it's a long haul
making way to the end
as if living like termites
chipping away at bones

gain of mental
capacity, rapidly
and heated
like Spartan foot-soldiers,
it’s a dark battle
marching to deaths gate
as if life was no longer
eating away at psyches.


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Meet the author

author avatar Lupo Nero
I am nineteen and in school for creative writing in entertainment. I believe writing should have no limits or standards, and the true essence of my poetry is the freedom of imagination

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author avatar Retired
23rd Aug 2013 (#)

It's beautiful.

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author avatar Rathnashikamani
23rd Aug 2013 (#)

Your poetry is special and makes me read and think.

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author avatar The Dude
23rd Aug 2013 (#)


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author avatar Lupo Nero
23rd Aug 2013 (#)

thanks all.

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