Cursed Poetry Novels & Stories

one of the warriors reported. I nodded once and wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand. Normally after a fight my wolf would calm down, but tonight it was worse. Restless. Wounded. Silent. Ever since the rejection ceremony my wolf refused to speak to me. It stayed buried deep inside me like it hated me.

She leaned back, the lines in her face deepening. “The old words you’ve all heard,” she said, “are only half the stanza. The rest…” Her mouth twisted. “I’ve been trying to get someone to listen to it for years. But people like their prophecies neat. Easy to wield in arguments.” She lifted her hand, palm up. “Listen now,” she said. “The lost hybrid child returns in chains,” she recited softly. “The twin‑marked wolves both feel Her pain. If she is bound like a trophy, the curse takes flame and devours the plain. If she is left like a ghost, the curse takes frost and snaps bone and brain.”

By shadow’s will, by night’s decree, So burned, so cursed, so mote it be. I didn’t know how long I stood there, hurling curses upon Ezra’s pack, my voice rising like a storm. Midway through, Ezra and his armies stormed the roof, desperate to bring me down, to silence me. But they couldn’t reach me — a barricade of dark power surrounded me, impenetrable. No matter how they clawed or struck, none could break through. Soon, my curses began to take hold. Some of them doubled over, coughing up blood, while others burned with fever, their bodies trembling violently beneath the scorching sun — as though they were trapped in the heart of an Antarctic winter.

Cyrus’s eyes carried a glare as he stared at his cousin. “Tell me you realize what is going on here,” Gedoni spoke. “What is going on?” “You know Cyrus. Do not pretend with me. I am family.” “Gedoni, get straight to the point.” Cyrus snapped. He was tensed, because like Gedoni said, he knew or suspected what was going on. “it’s the curse Cyrus, Yemanja’s curse. You cannot deny it.” Cyrus gave Gedoni a dirty look. “Gedoni, you can’t take that seriously. Yemanja is a bitter old woman. How can her careless words hold any meaning? You can’t be serious.” Cyrus denied it, but he could sense the feeling. The fear that was growing inside of him.

he groaned as he felt more pains at the back of his neck and more headache. "What is happening?" He muttered as his eyes began to ache too. Suddenly a mark appeared at the middle of his palm in ancient writings and since he could read ancient writings, he read them and his eyes popped out like an owl, as if they would fall off anytime soon. On his palm was boldly written in ancient writings, 'The cursed wolf'. He looked at Lydia and then at himself and then it dawned on him. Lydia wasn't the one who would break his curse. It was Jade and Lydia was the one to curse him more.

I storm out Why won't anyone believe me, I have a real life vampires blood Arrg! after everything I went through, still just insults I did my study on those creatures for years, and I can still remember some of my favourite poetry and poems I read as a kid A Last Word by Ernest Dowson Let us go hence: the night is now at hand; The day is overworn, the birds all flown; And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown; Despair and death; deep darkness o'er the land,

Thoughts were sweet but their own false hope still residing turning down the sweetness earlier Everyone knew, the curse wasn't healed? Why no one knew? The words spread , luna being impure creating the remorse in the members . But who would dare to speak it loud .Moreover , the clossness of Richard and Eliss happened to be oil in fire . Richard, whose name was forbidden was roaming in the palace in bright light, laughing and enjoying as if the shadows of past never lingered in the hall of palace . Stunned the very soul in the palace who knew, who he was.