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Old November 13th, 2017 (7:07 PM). Edited November 13th, 2017 by MukMire.
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MukMire MukMire is offline
The King of Slimes
Join Date: Oct 2011
Location: ????
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Nature: Naughty
Posts: 845
Hello, hello, fellow purveyors of literature. I'm MukMire, but I generally go by "Murk," as I used to be mainly known as MurkMire.

That's right. I changed my name by one letter.

Anyone, this is where I will be posting all of my writings, poetry and short stories.

I do hope you enjoy, and please, feel free to comment. I always appreciate comments and helpful advice.

For now, I'd like to post a couple of poems here, as my introductory post.


Meteor Shower

She and I sat there in awe,

atop the hill that stood tall.

A grand meteor shower,

shined and shimmered,

more beautiful than any flower.

Her eyes glimmered,

as the display shined across the night sky

and painted the sky with brilliant color.

As the streaks of light began to fade,

we sat in silence,

our eyes glimmered with that same light.

Studying Dreams

When I write down my dreams,

I recall the entirety as I write.

Crossing the ocean in a heavy storm,

traversing an abandoned world.

I remember the "feeling" of solitude,

isolation, and... grief? I write more,

but can't recall why I grief in this dream.

It was last night that I finally solve that riddle.

Up on a hill, a hill that overlooked a city by the sea,

a lone gravestone sat.
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Old November 20th, 2017 (3:10 PM).
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MukMire MukMire is offline
The King of Slimes
Join Date: Oct 2011
Location: ????
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Nature: Naughty
Posts: 845
A new poem! Enjoy! :D


A dry, desolate earth.
Smouldering, falling ash from above.
I run, but only dry, desolate earth.
The ash keeps falling from above, so high above.

Such is, the stresses of life, and the first instances of rage.

A roar, so earth shattering,
the very earth begins to split and tear.
In the distance, there is a fire.
A fire that cloaks the darkest darkness,
and appears as a tiger.

Such is my anger and madness, manifest.

I stare into the eyes that bore into me,
and I see my eyes. I point up, and we both see
the silver lining in the noxious clouds.

The rain, now washing away
the ashes, flames and darkness.
The rain, now washing away
my fear of debt
my fear of wallowing

Now, I am awash in a new opportunity.
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Old December 14th, 2017 (3:34 PM).
MukMire's Avatar
MukMire MukMire is offline
The King of Slimes
Join Date: Oct 2011
Location: ????
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Nature: Naughty
Posts: 845

the rats go tat-tat-tat
across the floor mat.

the rats go rat-tat-tat
all over the fat cat.

the rats go rat-tat-tat
with the flesh and bones they pick at.

They snatch and scratch,
they bite with delight
the flesh of the dead.

The bones, they clatter
the bones, they go
as the rats go rat-tat-tat-tat.
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Old January 18th, 2018 (6:13 PM).
MukMire's Avatar
MukMire MukMire is offline
The King of Slimes
Join Date: Oct 2011
Location: ????
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Nature: Naughty
Posts: 845
Warning, not for children or for those under the age of 18 years old.

This is possibly my most prized writing achievement thus far, outside of RPing. Also, this was published in a collection with other poetry!

Needless to say, this poem is something I treasure, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

My Beloved, My Altar

I struggle, climbing the stairs
as I make my late night climb.
I balance another basket of my late night findings,
up the stairs in my lonely home.
I dare not trip and fall,
or else all that I have gathered will go to waste.

One step here, one step there.
I carefully make the turn,
and gently place my basket on the ground.
There, now I pull the cable, and release the attic stairs.
Lift, lift, lift,
Carefully, I climb another set of stairs.

It’s dark, much too dark to keep going.
Again, I place my basket down with the utmost care.
Pulling out a lighter, I flick, flick, flick.
One, two, three, nine candles later.
My altar is now alight, and now,
I can continue my work.

My basket, I’ve kept closed and close to my chest,
I now open up.
Dirt, decay, wood, and mementos.
Finger bones, bottled up feelings, and locks of hair.
I begin work on my beloved altar.
Many months gone by, but with patience, it’s nearly complete.

A dash of powdered grave dust, sprinkled across the altar.
A mixture of her blood, and my tears, I paint on this altar.
Her bones, I align, adorn, and decorate this beloved altar.
At the heart of this beloved altar,
sits the skull of my beloved,
surrounded by bones made of her former life.

Her spine, ribcage, and all.
It is… a vision of true beauty, an otherworldly sight.
But suddenly, the window of my attic bursts open,
a vicious wind slithers through my attic
and my beloved shrine!
I try to protect it, but the wind refuses me!

The candles are snuffed by this heartless gust.
I rise, but am halted by an unknown force.
Has my beloved come to me, at last?!
But oh, her grip is strong, so forceful.
Her once delicate hands, now sharp and wretched,
they squeeze my throat.

Something comes to my ear,
a cold, raspy, wrathful voice,
with the tone of an angel!
She says to me, with utter hatred,
“I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
With a crushing force on my throat, I’m thrown to the floor.

Oh, how she stands!
Oh, how she glares!

Even in her state of hellish rage,
she is truly a work of art,
even after death!
Her bones, her rotten flesh, and her coal, black eyes!
She takes a step… and another….

I begin to cry, happily,
as my beloved begins to crush my neck with her skeletal feet!
I begin to shudder with delight,
as my vision begins to fade.

Her burning, reddening eyes
see me off, into the afterlife.
I’ll see you again, my beloved!

I swear it.
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