Author | Lightnews

Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · 2d

I know Spooktober is over, and I failed miserably at keeping it up to date here (but you can find it all on Instagram), but I truly enjoyed some of my poems, so I'll keep posting them here. This one is untitled, inspired by the prompt "Why Does The Tree Look Like Dad?"

This piece is light in colour, full of blue and green. Some herbs hang on top of the text; there's a staff to the right of the text; and below the poem, there is a snake.

The poem does not have a title.

The text reads:
"As the daughter of a famous druid, Elsbeth was still learning how to read the forest
She did not know all the words of wind and runes of intertwined branches
But she did know that a sour soil meant suffering
And that downward dark clouds meant that the sky wept
“Elsbeth,” a breeze blew in agony
She was confused when she saw the face of her father on a dying tree
After all, he was just a normal man
She was less confused when her mother saw it too
And started crying"

- A. M. Wendt

Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · 15d

Day 14: Guns were useless there

#writingprompt #poetry #sadpoetry

Light background with a cherry tree branch on the bottom right.

Title: A Soldier's Cry

Text: "The first time I stepped into hell, I wept
And the pain I saw, and the sorrow I felt
I’m never going to forget
I sleep with their screams every night of my life
The odour… that foul smell
I’ve been living a picture
I was a fool
I see that now
A picture of the mountains of bodies flowing down the river
Of the flies, and the roaches, and the rats, and the rot
Of families running away
And falling
One by one
Of kids kneeled down next to their dead parents
Of them dying by the bayonet, just as easily
The fun the demons had in broad daylight
I remember
The women
The children
The babies
Gods, how I wish to forget the babies

I had a gun back then
I thought about using it
But I looked up
And saw the red of our flag
The colour of blood
I was a coward
But I am finally gonna use my gun now
And I just know I’m going to see hell again"

- A. M. Wendt

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Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · 22d

My first ever attempt at a haiku.
This was the ninth poem for my #spooktober challenge 2025. The prompt was "And the mother fed her children the best roaches she could find".
You can check the complete challenge on my Instagram here: www.instagram.com/aninksword/

#horrorhaiku #haiku #horrorpoetry

Night sky, the silhouette of a city. An orange glow from below suggests fire.

Untitled.

"Orange is the sky
Says the mother in rubble
“Eat your roaches, kids”"

- A. M. Wendt
@aninksword

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Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · 28d

This time, we come with a mythological horror. Day six of #spooktober brings the prompt "During the Eclipse, An Eye Opened in front of the Moon"
It's but a simple poem, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

#cosmichorror #mythologicalhorror #darkpoetry

Title: The Seer

Text:
"Below the stars and above the clouds
There lies a place which homes a hound
A creature so big that covers the sky
Sleeps ethereal, while time passes by

From her breath comes the current
From her mouth, a great torrent
When she snores, she echoes the thunder
She shapes the earth in such deep slumber

In aeons afore, a blind witch foretold
A prophecy of evil that never grew old
Words of a day, when the moon covers the sun

A mouth full of teeth will scream for her son
An eye full of anger will claim her revenge
And the plague of humanity will soon meet its end"

- A. M. Wendt

Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · 28d

#outubromacabro está de volta. Dia 6, vamos pintar um novo quadro com o tema "Quando acordei, o céu estava cinza"
É a primeira vez que o título do poema é o mesmo texto do desafio. Normalmente eu prefiro variar, mas esse combinou.

#escritubro #poesiatriste #poesiabrasileira

Título: Quando acordei, o céu estava cinza

Texto:
"Fui dormir em cores quentes;
Despertei gelado
Preto e branco para todo lado
Não ouvia nenhum som,
Apenas os alternantes azuis e vermelhos
Na porta de minha casa

Tanto foi o baque
Que o sol apagou
Eu fui dormir tão colorido
Mas na manhã
Morri monocromático"

- A. M. Wendt

Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · 29d

Day 5: Never make a deal with a hag

#spooktober #hag #darkpoetry

Untitled

Text:
"There are thirteen years between a deal and a debt
Thirteen happy days afore the last day of summer
A year without Autumn, rolls straight into winter

As the night falls, mothers sing and hide their children
Under knives of iron and bundles of rowan
And lines of salt around every door and every window

When darkness takes the land, there’s no soul out in the wind
But a gust comes nonetheless; and it freezes the glasses
Sending shivers down the spine of frightened villagers

The presence stops by a door and looks at the horseshoe
No matter, a deal is a deal; thirteen knocks sound inside
The test of the damned, whose will will defy"

- A. M. Wendt

"“Mother!” the daughter of thirteen cries
Oblivious of her own oblivion, she thinks this the devil
But it’s fate, signed in blood, and signed in soul

The gust of wind doesn’t knock a fourteenth time
It opens and it invades and it takes and it stops
A lesson taught in regret, the evil smile that she wears

The sun and the moon care not for the suffering of humans
So the Earth still turns, and the day still comes
And the village has one less daughter"

- A. M. Wendt

Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · 29d

#outubromacabro dia 5: Nunca faça um acordo com uma fada

#fadas #escritubro #outubromacabro #poesiabrasileira

Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · Oct 5

Here comes the 4th. Prompt: I should've trusted the shaman.
I hope your #spooktober is being great and sinister so far.

#horrorpoetry #writer #hell #religiouspoetry

Title: Lament of a Priest

Text:
"As I burn in this strange hell,
Flashes of my mistakes slowly torture my soul
From all the decisions that led me here
One stands out:
I should’ve trusted that danmed shaman"

- A. M. Wendt

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Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · Oct 5

Dia 4 do nosso Outubro Macabro. Tema: Eu devia ter ouvido aquela bruxa.

#escritubro #outubromacabro #poesiadeterror

Título: Lamento Episcopal

Texto: "Agora queimo nesse estranho inferno
Memórias dos meus erros torturam minh’alma
De todas as decisões que me trouxeram até aqui
Uma sobressai:
Eu devia ter ouvido àquela maldita bruxa"

- A. M. Wendt

Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · Oct 3

Our third day of #spooktober got too long to be a single post here, so I decided to leave it only on Instagram (maybe lazyness is my deadly sin). But you can still check the results of the prompt "What lies behind her strang, locked door" here: www.instagram.com/p/DPXMRM7jrx...

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Welcome back to Instagram. Sign in to check out what your friends, family & interests have been capturing & sharing around the world.

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Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · Oct 3

Nosso terceiro dia de Outubro Macabro vem de um parceiro e amigo lá na rede social de fotos. Apreciem a magnífica escrita intimista e intensa dele: www.instagram.com/p/DPWEbq1jq0X/

Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · Oct 2

For our second day of Spooktober this year, we ride this very intimate poem entitled Belonging. The prompt was: I See Eyes In The Mirror

#Spooktober #mirrorhorror #poetry #horrorpoetry

Title: Belonging

Text:
"Red
Swollen
Flooded with grey and angst

I stare at them
And they stare at me
Through all my heartbeats
I beat
And myself

Tears run down the skin
I tried to tear it down too
But she refused
Every single time
Every single time

I close my eyes
There’s no me
Only that presence behind my deformed body
And I feel it crawling
And I feel its hands on my shoulders
And its arms around me
And its soul inside mine
And I hear its whisper
Telling me lies about belonging
And their voices echo
Telling me lies about myself
I cry

Lost
I open my eyes again
Denied
It was all true
And true all over again

I stare at them
They stare at me
And so does the blade
After all

I see eyes in the mirror
But they are not mine"

- A. M. Wendt

3

Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · Oct 2

Seguindo para o segundo dia do nosso Outubro Macabro. Tema de hoje: Ela sorriu e eu vi suas presas.

#outubromacabro #poesiadeterror #poesiabrasileira #poesia #escritubro

"Foi no balanço do corpo,
no requebrar do quadril,
em seus passos de samba,
ela encurtou a distância
E eu já estava completamente perdido

Pôs seus olhos nos meus
e de mim fez estátua
Ela riu e me puxou;
Eu dançava hipnotizado
Pelo calor do seu toque gelado

Era uma branca de neve
Uma sereia em terra
Sua voz de feitiço, me enfeitiçou;
E, viciado em seu corpo,
Perdi foi toda a minha noite"

- A. M. Wendt

"Deixei-me levar quando
sua língua - afiada -
enrolava na minha
Me tomou para longe dali
Que perigo gostoso que eu corria

Eu nem sabia seu nome
Mas também sequer sabia o meu
Só sabia que era minha predadora
Bastava; Sorriu pra mim
E eu vi suas presas

Mas já não tinha mais nada de mim
Deitado de costas,
ela mordeu meu pescoço
Me devorou por inteiro
E o que sobrou, era dela também"

- A. M. Wendt

2

Inksword @aninksword.bsky.social · Oct 2

Thank you! 😁

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