True Colours

True Colours


To use a cliché or maybe four,
I am full of them you will see for sure.

As a true master of disguise,
It’s within the shadows I spin lies.

As has been and so shall be,
I always stand right here with thee.

As you walk I’m beside you now,
As the sweat runs down your brow.

It is my breath that warms your neck,
While in the mirror you do check.

All the lines down your face that stretch,
Across your flesh that once was fresh.

I’m the eternal conquistador,
As is now and forevermore.

It’s with me you begin the fight,
Your body tries with all its might.

So the battle for you begins,
As I struggle for your sins.


And upon this stallion’s rigid back,
There is stealth in my attack.

It’s the war you attempt to wage,
Your soul locked in its fleshly cage.

But there is no way for you to fight,
And of that you know I am right.

You succumb to my every pain,
As I ravage body and brain.

And with the first stage now being won,
Soon the second shall be done.

And then the third it will commence,
With only the slightest of your defense.


As my misery closes in,
It is your bowels that begin to spin.

Because within your guts I dwell,
Home to this dark carousel.

With rot and ruin they decay,
As they eat themselves away.

Without a thing left to digest,
Comes a weakening in your chest.

As hunger flees your deadened throat,
Your organs they do twist and bloat.

With no longer a want for food,
The next stage has thus ensued.


And thus the time is now at hand,
For the warriors to disband.

As filth runs thickly from your bowels,
To the chorus of our beastly howls.

Your soiled life stains virgin sheets,
As the refuse of your God retreats.

There is only but decay,
As your flesh cage rots away.

And somewhere in the distant sky,
Through darkness angels they do cry.

But in the land below our feet,
The demons grin and gnash and bleat.

As they plan their greatest feast,
Wherein they swallow your sweetmeats.


And now your world has met its end,
While you believe it is godsend.

But you question at what cost,
Humanity has again lost.

And so from the dirt it now begins,
The struggle between the heinous twins.

To one above and one below,
You are only a mere tableau.

In this never-ending play,
To make the horses stay away.


© Copyright 2013 DaemonwulfTM. All Rights Reserved.

25 thoughts on “True Colours

  1. You take us on a lyrical journey through death and decay, Daemonwulf. There is some beautiful imagery here, my favourites were references to bleating demons and fleshy cages. I am continually enchanted by the relationship between beauty and horror, and dark poetry such as this really highlights that relationship.


    1. Thank you, Mr. Brown. I too enjoy the concept of death…probably too much so. And thought that my little poem of personal apocalypse would be a good way to investigate such. I am glad you appreciated my first, full-length, attempt at dark prose.


  2. I had a story recently where I wrote about the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse—you really took the idea and ran with it. The words and flow were wonderful and it was delightfully disturbing.


  3. Your Wulfen poetry is quite grand, my friend. My favorite words are at the very end of your last poem:

    “To one above and one below,
    You are only a mere tableau.

    In this never-ending play,
    To make the horses stay away.”

    Is it possible to make the horses stay away? I think not.



    1. Why, them thar are some mighty kind words from a fiery, ‘Doll-ed’ up, Front Range Poe like you, oh Blaze. Thank you very much. I was hoping that the ‘horsemen references’ throughout wouldn’t go missed, and I don’t think they did in my little foray into a rhyming account of one’s own ‘personal apocalypse.’ *I-appreciate-you-more-than-you-know smile*


      1. The beautiful thing about the Apocalypse, whether you are a believer or not, is the grand possibility of new ways to view what is written in the Book of Revelation. To do so in poetic form makes it even grander. Super job, Daemonwulf!



  4. Dark and apocalyptic. This was wickedly delightful sir Daemonwulf!

    I enjoyed the juxtapositions of demons and angels, as well as the soul and flesh-cage. Your admitted first attempt at poetry was hellishly fun!



    1. Thank you, Oh Zack Who Wants to Believe… *modified-Mulder face* I thank you for reading and also for taking the time to comment. Good thing to know your own flesh cage is still holding up. *daemonic snicker*


    1. Well, I believe Death is a subject that the Damned (and our followers) can get behind. Not in front of, of course. Because that would likely result in lesser-than-desirable consequences. *sharp smile* Thanks very much, Danny Demon. *toothy snicker*


  5. I love how you take elements (like color) and swirl them into a dark palette. You leave no trap door for escape . You also have great wording that keeps the poetry tight all the way through. The first and last lines tie up in a neat , dark bow…


    1. Thanks much, Lunar Lady. Coming from you, the Damnedest Poet Around, that is high praise. I was hoping my sometimes simplistic Suessian (*is-that-a-word?-and-alliteration? look*) might offend your far more mature poetic sensibilities, but I’m happy I was able to wrap you up in that bow. Hopefully it wasn’t too tight. *strangulating smile*


  6. Wulf, an expertly crafted spindle of dark delights! I loved the use of colors. And though I loved the ending lines it was the gross and gritty verbiage of Gray that I found most enjoyable. Great work as always, brother! Thank you!


  7. Apologies, Wulven brother, for the very long delay in commenting on your post. I very much enjoyed TRUE COLOURS! At first, I thought you might delivering a very unfortunate end for one Cyndi Lauper, but when I at last realized that you crafted some wickedly good poetry, aah, as Dr. Seuss would say: “Oh, the places you’ll go!!”

    I always love me some apocalypse and some good ole fashioned conflict between Heaven & Hell, both outside our world as well as within one’s mind. Your poem certainly did not disappoint. My favorite line: “Your soiled life stains virgin sheets, As the refuse of your God retreats.” Great stuff right there!

    Thank you for conjuring your inner poet. I’d say you knocked this one out of the park!


    1. Thank you very much, Joe, for those kind and enkouraging words. The travel into the world of poe-etry was quite fun. But I think our resident evil rhyme-queen has nothing to worry about when it comes to competition. *howling-at-the-Moondust howl*


  8. I will fully admit, I never expected to see a ‘poetic’ piece come from the tappings of Daemonwulf. This is a truly twisted, and most enjoyable ride. I initially thought you were presenting different pieces, then the thread of disdain began to weave its unmistakeable way through the different ‘colors’ on the second read, and it is a gloriously hateful (hate filled) piece.

    Excellent as always! 😉


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