A Collection From A Wicked Mind: The Anthology of a Psychopath

By Z Halferty

From the mind of a psychopath, brought to you as a representation of the dark and evil side of the world, along with the light and loving side, this collection of poems and short works will twist the mind and bring to light, the evil capabilities of people. Because there seems to be more evil than love, the darkness held in this collection outweighs the love significantly. This work is neither for the faint of heart nor for the weak of stomach. Throughout this collection there are several references to death, suicide, murder, necrophilia, and other demented, psychotic, and other subjects of mental illness. Just for measure, if you would not read about serial killers’ detailed deeds, then this work should be avoided. Lose your sanity and enjoy...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Z Halferty
• Release date: Jun 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463721452

Z Halferty

Z is a loving father who has accomplished much, despite the misfortunes of his life. He has already published a children's book (not for profit) and had a poem published in a well known newspaper before writing his first novel while studying at a community college located in Missouri. Having had much experience in writing, he has written hundreds of works; many of which he lost during a house fire in 2005. Despite this, he continued his work, driving to inspire others to be themselves and write with their own unique style. With his goals set forth, he managed to write his first novel during his free time, in a period of two months. Unfortunately, due to lack of time, it took him nearly a year to edit and begin the publishing process. Because he desires to remain humble and intends to raise hope in artists that have lost their motivation, he has opted to self-publish to prove that, even in the most troublesome of times and with very little money, if hard work and effort is put forth, dreams can come true.

Book preview

This book is dedicated to my beautiful daughter; all my friends who have been there when I needed them; and my family who made me as demented as I am, without them, this book wouldn’t be possible.

Thanks is deserved by many. But, unfortunately, few receive it where it should be given. Thus, in black and white, here before the eyes of my readers, I give thanks to those that have stood before, those that have stood behind, and those that have stood at my side. I give thanks to those that believe that through dedication and hard work, the world can be changed for the better. I give thanks to all of those that suffer and sacrifice for the betterment of their people, their life, their family, or anything else worth fighting for. I give thanks to those that have come before me, those that forged the very paths I must walk every day, to those that have stood against death, oppression, and cruelty. I give thanks to all of those that have done what was needed to make a difference and improve the quality of life for others. I give thanks to any and all that have gone to the furthest reaches of life to support others, bring light to the world, and otherwise shift the status quo to the unfortunate. I give thanks to all of those that still stand for what they believe, whether right or wrong in the eyes of others and have pushed aside the very ridicule cast upon them. I give thanks to all, with few exceptions; for all must be thanked for something, but some deserve to be destroyed despite what they have brought to this earth.

Warning: This book contains some extremely dark works. All are written and brought to you as a representation of the dark and evil side of the world along with the light and loving side. Because there seems to be more evil than love, the darkness held in this collection outweighs the love significantly. This work is neither for the faint of heart nor for the weak of stomach. Throughout this collection there are several references to death, suicide, murder, necrophilia, and other demented, psychotic, and other subjects of mental illness. Just for measure, if you would not read about serial killers’ detailed deeds, then this work should be avoided.

Foreword (Cover Our Ass Page)

The works in this book are NOT necessarily the views of anyone. This book is simply a collection of short works written by Z Halferty and his ex-wife, J. Some of those contained within were written as metaphors of Z’s life, some were originally written as songs and converted to poems, others were written simply for entertainment, while some were written as a sincere pledge of his love for his ex-wife (when they were together). Many of the works enclosed were written over a period of over a decade.

In no way does Z or J believe or recognize any of the following as a diary of or guide to premeditated murder, suicide, or any other crimes therein. Nor do they recognize any as a statement of belief, prejudice, or discrimination against any religion, race, sex, etc.

Z and J respect others for their choices and hope for the same. The term Shangri-La appears from time to time in Z’s work. He defines this term as being the sheer and utter happiness found in a child’s imagination which is lost gradually as adulthood is approached. Thus, Shangri-La is heaven, undying happiness, euphoria, utopia, or any other equality that can be derived from the terms origin in James Hilton’s novel Lost Horizon written in 1933.

The works of J are separated from the poems of Z in an attempt to prevent any retaliation that may result from his work being reflected upon her. Please note that Z and J have in no way worked together to write their individual pieces; both artists worked in solitaire.

Z hopes you enjoy this collection and any more that any more that may come to be. He also hopes that any who read this sickly demented work take a piece of his mind from it.

Just for safe measure, Z recommends that those intending to read this work, lock themselves in a bathroom (for more than one reason), and make arrangements to reserve a room at the nearest mental ward for a few years.

Lose your sanity and enjoy…

Dark Poems by Z

Tormented By Thought

Most say I am demented,

When my mind is only tormented.

With every thought,

A new torture is brought.

Every joy, every dream;

They are all the same.

Each another brick in

The wall of mental prison.

Questions become links

In the winding chain, full of kinks,

Holding me down,

Continuously making me frown.

They wonder why

I never seem to cry.

Myself I have taught,

Through the torment of my thoughts,

Not to cry,

Only prepare to die.

For the worst I am ready.

When my time comes, my hands will steady.

A smile upon my face,

As I move on to a new place.

Finally ending my pain,

From the ceiling drips my brain.

In Pain

In pain I find love;

Pain allows my mind to calm.

Nothing but the sky above;

I thrust a knife into my palm.

The sensation races through my body,

As blood pours to the ground.

My skin seems to crawl,

My blood so thick it is nearly clotty.

Soon enough I will be death bound.

I am simply waiting for my heart to stall.

Pain releases me,

But only temporarily.

Other than my prison,

Pain is the only thing left for me.

To back down is treason,

The only way is sustaining injury.

My only freedom is pain.

My blood, I wish it to rain.

From above my life fluid shall pour,

Allowing my soul to soar.

Pain is my only true love.

Death fits me like a glove.

If Anyone Ever Cared

If anyone ever cared,

Maybe I wouldn’t have dared.

If only that one time had I not stared,

Right now I may be faired.

Because of that one time being impaired,

My life is no longer shared.

If only that one time had I not been scared,

Life may be more easily bared.

If only she had actually cared,

My mind may not have been scarred.

Maybe if my soul was spared,

I would not have been so despaired.

If only my love had been shared,

Maybe my tears would have rared.

My loss was hardly bared.

I wish she was there so she could have stared.