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Omori moment

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to the bone marrow, it's there, it looks, it's you

aough I haven't painted in a while, happy

thank you

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I don't trust anyone who hasn't acknowledged their capacity for evil.

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The Flower Vendor

Victor-Emile Prouvé

1882

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Hero and Mari as Orpheus and Eurydice 👀 👀

#doing a painting rn of sunny/hades and basil/persephone #i WILL PAINT THIS ONE TOO #OH MY GOODNESS IT'S BURIED ON MY MIND NOW #crow talks

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never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱

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Goro Akechi's Wish

Based on the confirmation that Maruki's ending is also Akechi's wish, not just Jokers, from the artbook.

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If you want to die, do it somewhere far away from me.

akeshu as akiangel

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"necromance" was made with a prompt a guy on my discord server sent once. maybe that and "lucius" are the only ones who try to tell a narrative, while my other poems are mostly made by my personal experiences and thoughts. besides, "necromance" is the only one told in a normal poem-way, that it also rhymes !!

#crow talks #i have this idea for a poem since so so long #about a goddess and her most devoted follower #that one will also be written in the same way as “necRomance” #:))

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"did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

but being told as an insult.

to the angel that disappointed god,

the reminder of their wings being cut off

with their own flame sword

is not a good thing at all.

"did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

but spoken with such rage,

that the same angel can vividly feel

the burning ache on both

their back

and their chest,

followed by a bitter bump

on their throat.

"did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

but said,

as a reminder to the angel,

that they're a human now.

that they can feel

that they can ache

that they can grieve

and that they can fall again.

#crow writes #poetry #poem #“lucius” #religious poetry #angels #the way it's worded it's to reminiscen how an angel falls down mid flight... fun fact

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wip (if I finish it that is

og song is cagna by prozac+

Se non mi servi più (If I don't need you anymore

Magica cagna ( Magical bitch / whore

Perfida cagna ( Wicked bitch / whore

Cagna is like, female dog, is usually used in a derogatory way as to mean slut, whore and stuff like that. I'm pretty sure that in english bitch is the equivalent

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“I’m not fortune’s fool, I’m yours.” 🩸

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necromance

I woke up with traces of your scent,

still remembering how warm your silhouette used to be

by my side, on the bed.

Now the sheets are empty,

slowly growing cold,

and I frown, my eyes sore.

Breakfast is silent.

Our dog whines, looking for your attention

and I don't have the courage to say what I mention.

I am sure he knows, of how you loved him so dearly.

Petting behind his ears,

a mannerism of yours I copied early

and now he is silent too, I fear.

Now all my wardrobe is in charcoal,

gloomy, too tight yet too loose,

it glares at me, daring to put the suit on.

I hate wearing these clothes.

There is no one to fix my tie,

not since that dawn.

The road is silent.

Even the air yearns to hear you again,

and I swallow the urge to speed up.

Met accidentally with my own dead gaze

in the nearview mirror,

but wondered when could I finally stare

at those lovely eyes of yours

with them softening back at me.

White noise sting my ears,

but it's not enough to appease your voice

pleading for me to look at you once again.

Desperate, towards the open casket,

I sigh in joyful tears at your touch.

Your skin would never be cold enough to mine.

But, Ethan, why won't you look at me?

Is that you don't love me anymore?

Eyes are the window of the soul,

does this means you're really gone?

No, it can't be.

You're as handsome as the day

you bestowed your heart to me.

Your kisses still tingle my lips,

and is a sensation I wish to never forget.

I just have to try, I tell to myself.

There is still a trail of hope as I cling to,

praying this is not what I fear.

And it is, sealed shut.

Darling, this view is not as lovely as I thought.

Tears fell by itselves,

and I apologize for not being gentle.

Suddenly I am aware of you being so frail,

even when I promised to ever treat you fair.

The heartbeat rejoices my chest,

as I smile between hics,

you looked at me back, I am blessed.

They can try all they want

to keep us apart,

but neither morticians

nor any ammunitions,

will hold us back.

Shh, my dear, be silent,

they cannot hear us right now.

I know you wanted to see me once more,

And I am here now, am I not?

Is a shame your lips where sealed too,

but fear not, my love.

Not even like this, not even before,

I declined a chance to feel your touch.

The ethanol is now buried on me,

it will be a treat for a bit.

Mark my words, my dear,

I will see you again,

in the next life or the other,

this is not a goodbye,

is more of a 'Take care'

Meanwhile, I will too,

take care of the dog,

of your car, of your clock,

and tell you how the cousin you had a fight on

freaked out

when your eyes won't shut down anymore.

#crow writes #poetry #poem #necro #tw necrophillia #“necRomance” #dark poetry

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i often think about that quote of "mary, did you know? that your womb was also a grave?" and i think i haven't been the same since

#crow talks #i. i just love religious raw poetry #kinda unrelated but when i write about god i use it/its for it. it's not human after all. #i praise the sky #i pray to the stars #and i worship the moon #god is only a concept to me #made by mankind #what is a god to the moon- #who actually does care and look over for me #brings me comfort on the most cold nights #while god only chooses to ignore my cries? #it is not real. at least i can give glances of love towards the moon. #she glances me back. #crow writes