Scary Poems for the Soul

Weeping Roses

The roses are weeping

The violets are dead

I can't handle these voices

Inside of my head

The noises consume me

From inside my bed

No one considers 

These tears that I shed

My fears and my sadness

In which they are fed

My happiness has left me 

In the blood I have bled

The roses are on frozen

The violets are on fire

My heart has fallen

In utmost desire

The voices have grown

Into a large, scaring choir

My heart and my soul

Have fallen weak to a liar

The roses are shredded 

The violets are burned

The devil has paid me

What I have earned

My conscious has left me

And went for the furn

Pity me, pity me

For I rest to burn

Help me, oh help me

For it is not my turn