Tomino's Hell Poem In English Novels & Stories

"I am smoke from a fire that never was, that no one saw. I am the beast of the night everyone desires, that no one loves. I am the liiiiife of the dead, the blooood of the ghost. I am the smoke of Torto, that one, who came here unsummoned by the void." I stomped the floor with one foot. "I am me! All of yours!" Stomp, stomp. "The boneless flesh licked by lips of filth and honey." Another stomp on the wooden floor. "I am the smoke of the streets, of the lost, and of the very sky." I spread my arms as if embracing the universe.

She dances gracefully at the ominous and dark room as she wonders and hum the eerie tone with her mind that pin and sinks to the poem she made and curse to the very core. “Well, well, well, who among you readers wanted to read my hell of a curse poem?” Teasing a daring, she continues to hum the devil’s lullaby as she whispers the words of the poem. TOMIKO’S HELL Round and round our life spins and about Twist and turn you can hear a silent scream Up and down what a lovely dream Until you find yourself eating a flesh cream Oh, how ironic living and dying In the world where everything is pretty much boring

It is a sentence. I heard him in my head. Tall. Quiet. Eyes that promised heat I had no business wanting. The way his mouth found mine in the garden when the moon was just above the trees. He did not taste like a worker. He tasted like a man who had been starving and found a flame. “Do you regret it?” Wendy asked when we stepped into the shade. I swallowed. “Ask me again in a year.” “If he tells,” she said, “what then?” “He will not,” I said, quick. “Being rejected is a shame. He will keep it to himself. I will keep it to myself. That ends it.”

I walked up to my parents' tombstones and slowly knelt down. White daisies were placed in front of the tombstones. The Soldati stood five meters away, holding the umbrella and watching my every move. "Dad, Mom, I came to see you," I muttered, gently touching my father's name on the tombstone. "I'm sorry for letting you down. I failed to protect the Scott family and myself." The sound of the rain grew louder, almost drowning out my voice. Just then, a tall man in a black windbreaker held an umbrella and walked to the neighboring tombstone. He bent over and placed a bunch of white roses, slowly and devoutly.

We set stones where Erik fell not a monument, a reminder. People left potatoes. The ground had earned them. At dusk, the drums softened. I stood on the slab. “People,” I said too small, too big “listen. I’m crowned. That means I answer to you. I’ll send food where roots took too much. Hands where storms tore roofs. Fire where law rots. I’ll ask. Not order.” “If War returns?” someone shouted. “He will,” I said. “We’ll make the field ugly again.” “And Death?” a child, brave.

Give that blind man a knife, that blind man a wife, and the Blind God does not kneel before me. This knife is my time, a giver of rhyme, and bread rises on yeasty foremeat. A sliver of meat, the dogs of Hell's beef: I take up my quarrel with no man. Instead, to the stars, I take to my arms, a moon cannonball is my Trojan. So on the pondside, the Little Flower of Hell reads fairytales Grimm, ill-begotten. Apocalypse Child, the Devil's Bride, she has no masters before him.

I can relate to this song 'cause I have a super hella BAD childhood. I know in this world, I'm not just the only one who experienced a one hella bad childhood. But, I can't just accept the fact that they're a famous and respected lawyers, but they treat their daughter as if it is an animal who mustn't born in this world at the first place, tsk! Like a mistaken child. Damn it! So fucking unfair side of this world! Make me believe that hell is empty because the real demons are actually here, maybe it's one of the person you are talking with.

HELL? “Inventive,” he mused, admiring it as though it were a gemstone. “How far you’ve come since the last time I walked among you mortals. Killing your prey with little metal balls and fire.” He flicked his crimson gaze back to the now terrified gunmen, his grin shark-like and hungry for blood. “I humbly applaud you. You have guts turning your weapon on a god. Too bad your mortal, little bodies get squashed so easily. You’re all like ants. Good for the environment, but bugs all the same.”

His wicked groans accompanying my stolen moans reflected the notes of an irreligious hymn everything about our twilight rendezvous screamed sin. And if that is so, send me straight to fucking hell.

GIDEON "I'm so fucking sorry," Otto was crying for the umpteenth time since I lost consciousness. "You're going to hate me when you wake up. I'm so sorry." The dark purple demon was clutching his legs to his chest with his triple set of black wings covering his body. The big black wolf of Philo was resting carelessly on the ground with his red eyes peering at us," he can't hate us, but he'd definitely be pissed off." The wolf spoke without moving his mouth.