Dark poems about death

My Account Logout Register Login. Home Poems Gothic. Steven says: Thank you for being alive :3 Thank you for being alive Deadly Bean-site Coffee. Bethany says: Wow, very deep and dark. I like it. Wow, very deep and dark. Brandon Crooms says: Thanks! Black rose says: My god this is so beautiful My god this is so beautiful.

dark poems about death

Christy says: Your poetry is beautiful. You are creative and articulate. I hope you have found love, hope and peace in your life. You deserve beauty. Your poetry is beautiful.


Ebony Shell Afrin Farhana 28 Jul, AM Walking through this dark concrete forest, Feeling those heavy stones on my chest, Slowing me down, down and down; In this dark of night, I'm the only one on the prowl. The sinners crawl, As the darkness falls, "Hello, Hello, Remember me? I'm everything you can't control.

dark poems about death

Upon my end, shall I begin? Goth Girl In A Graveyard. Craig Dee 23 Feb, PM A short extract Goth girl all forlorn, she walks a graveyard Alone with just her memories on her mind Wanders lonely as she's seeking closure And hoping it will be the healing kind Memories these days are all she's left with Seems everything she loves, it fades and dies Her made up face masks the pain inside her But rarely will a tear fall from her eyes [Read More] Tags: DarkPoetryGraveGraveyardGothGothicDeathSadness Votes: 0 0.

Dolled up in beauty of light and dark. Until you made a spark to engrave a stark Starlighted sisters and brothers Vendetta takes the sdarked, Are you goin' to replaced the Lark? Terror of a grimfaced shadow Scarce Grim 22 Sep, AM Moan within the deep canyon Chill runs through the skin of dead man- Chest filled with this terror- Red shimmering eyes and sharp personality; A mind works as draconian- Run for it!I saw the sky naked, joy filled my heart.

Bearing witness of such a blessed thing. Blue made me feel less blue, it flushed me out of hiding my time I have been biding now I gaze upon you, sun spring had just begun. Peddling, sun till sleeping. The city rests quiet, today people stay inside. The virus swept life, bringing it to a crawl.

A dance without music. The times are magical, the sky full of promise, nothing went wrong yet, this virgin believe. I am keen on drinking the quietness, were thoughts sound loud, but tend to crawl illuminated in the sunrise, my mind sleeps still, all is certain, everything is possible.

Every generation, for ten years on end. The end of hope, the decimation we defend. A good time, a bad one. How something that meant something, now it looks strange, we feel sorrow, take pity on imperfection that comes with age, even as a foundation things die I believe we need some sweet yesterday, just pick the rag out of the debris sniff and snort it, pixie dust from times we dared believe. Remembering the good old days, when wars still were fought in the open, with artillery, not poverty.

Caverns and unstable bridges, under an eerie moon drowning in ominous colored fright, the dark depressing night. Drowned in indifference But I also will go under Disappointment. To lose weight you have weight to gain. Taste a burrito, have a hundred slices of pizza, drawn in coke. Hitting the gym, crunching calories. I sweat butter, the contents of deepfried crap goes down the gutter. In the end I wind up with loose skin, going for a bucket of ice-cream so everything fits.

The cage is the television, max security the Net. Filling your head, with tainted beliefs. Oppression is the name of the game. Sense makes no sense, what is the meaning of waking up early, waking up at all. Dark Poems. Proudly powered by WordPress Theme: Bloggy.Remembering the good old days, when wars still were fought in the open, with artillery, not poverty. Caverns and unstable bridges, under an eerie moon drowning in ominous colored fright, the dark depressing night.

Trying to fool, the one-eye Jack. Slots and sluts, The beach, polluted, with broken glass syringes, and cigarette buds. No soul to be seen. Except the homeless, trading in empty bottles, for a full one. My younger years, …. It happened, between two holidays. When green coloured red, then green some. At the table, strangers and odd folk alike. Not able to call them family. Continue reading. In our country, Naya walked the forest, last of her kind but one.

A male she encountered, mating they did. A ca hit her lover, Naya escaped. Last of her kind, but three. She went into labour. A farmer, angry about his culled flock, not caring about wolves who ran amok, did shoot. Now there …. One little prisoner, went his way, Never was he seen back on the Floor, The prison rooms only found some rubbish to throw away.

A covered sheet, some secrets it will keep. An odd smell, Go back to your cell. John is probably in hell, Barry did his last execution, retirement smiled him in the …. Car-horn, Bash, Crash, Whiplash. Death, In debt, Causing tears to wet, Also in bed. Sister no more, What cruelty did you got in store. For I hate you into the core. A drink too much.Dark poems and poetry are poems which has some sort of dark elements to it.

It could be a poem about some horrific events, suffering, ghostly entities, death, Halloween, horror etc. Reading these sorts of poems will leave you in a twisted, disturbing and creepy state of mind. And for the lover of darkness that's where the fun is. So go ahead and start reading these poems at your own pace. If you happen to write dark poems yourself and want to publish your poem with us then please use this Submit Your Poems link to submit your poem to us.

Death poem and poetry is a part of Dark poems. It is so popular that we had to have a different sub category defined for it. As the name suggest, these are the poems which deals with death in their context. Please do not confuse these poems with sad poems. A death poem can of course be sad but all poems collected here are 'Dark' Death poems. It might be sad poems or might just not be. If you want to filter all of these poems in this section by 'Death' poems, the please click on the tag that says ' Death '.

My Account Logout Register Login. Home Poems. Steven says: Thank you for being alive :3 Thank you for being alive Deadly Bean-site Coffee. Bethany says: Wow, very deep and dark. I like it. Wow, very deep and dark.Though poetry can be full of light and laughter, it can also capture sorrow, pain, and the fragility of life.

In the best cases, these dark poems give us catharsis. They verbalize the shattered mirror through which we occasionally catch glimpses of our world. Below is a collection of full poems, excerpts, and poetry readings that walk in shadow. They contain darkness in all of its forms: grief, death, anxiety, rage, despair, loneliness, jealousy, doubt, heartbreak, and betrayal.

Showing results for tag "gothic"

There are cemeteries that are lonely, graves full of bones that do not make a sound, the heart moving through a tunnel, in it darkness, darkness, darkness, like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves, as though we were drowning inside our hearts, as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.

Thank you for signing up! Keep an eye on your inbox. By signing up you agree to our terms of use if only we could paint dice to wait on the windowsill Wait for a guest Wait for a moment of your pride or patience And let it be Dusty or kept Choice of an arm reaching as far as your hands can touch your face Do you cry or rest.

But ignorance cannot will knowledge. Ignorance wills something imagined which it believes exists. Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning, We will come back to earth some fragrant night, And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white. We will come down at night to these resounding beaches And the long gentle thunder of the sea, Here for a single hour in the wide starlight We shall be happy, for the dead are free.

On my desk is a photograph of you taken by the woman who loved you then. In some photos her shadow falls in the foreground. In this one, her body is not that far from yours. Did you hold your head that way because she loved it? Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed. You are gone. Three words. And not one of them exists now in any other context. I cannot forget the sugar on the table. The hand that spilled it was not that of my usual father, three layers of clothes for a wind he felt from hallway to kitchen, the brightest room though the lightbulbs were greasy.

They say I looked back out of curiosity. But I could have had other reasons. I looked back mourning my silver bowl. Carelessly, while tying my sandal strap. From the disobedience of the meek. Checking for pursuers. Struck by the silence, hoping God had changed his mind….

Before dawn, trembling in air down to the old river, circulating gently as a new season delicate still in its softness, rustling raiment of hopes never stitched tightly enough to any hour.

I was almost, maybe, just about, going to do that. We loved like we fought, slugging our way toward each other, sending up flares to announce our advance. Now I ask you: how will we manage without the steadiness of our long unhappiness? Which childhood? The one in which you learned to be afraid of the boarded-up well in the backyard and the ladder to the attic? The one presided over by armed men in ill-fitting uniforms strolling the streets and alleys, while loudspeakers declared a new era, and the house around you grew bigger, the rooms farther apart, with more and more people missing?

The photographs whispered to each other from their frames in the hallway.But I do know that when I do read it, I am constantly amazed by how so much emotion is brought about by so few words. And what is one of the hardest, most emotional things to talk about? So I turned to the poets to see what they have to say about it.

Here are 10 beautiful and occasionally humorous poems about death and the big sleep. Ware shinaba sakaya no kame no shita ni ikeyo moshi ya shizuku no mori ya sen nan. Bury me when I die beneath a wine barrel in a tavern. With luck the cask will leak. O man! The secret things of the grave are there, Where all but this frame must surely be, Though the fine-wrought eye and the wondrous ear No longer will live, to hear or to see All that is great and all that is strange In the boundless realm of unending change.

Who telleth a tale of unspeaking death? Who lifteth the veil of what is to come? Who painteth the shadows that are beneath The wide-winding caves of the peopled tomb? Or uniteth the hopes of what shall be With the fears and the love for that which we see? Read the full poem here. What shall I become when this body is dead and gone? A tall, thick pine tree on the highest peak of Bongraesan, Evergreen alone when white snow covers the whole world. As the sound of drum calls for my life, I turn my head where sun is about to set.

There is no inn on the way to underworld. At whose house shall I sleep tonight? Nothing but Death by Pablo Neruda.The poems are very much inspiring. Go deep and I will always read your poems. I love your poems so much. I always come to them when I need inspiration for art or writing songs. Omy god xD I love deep poems Thank you for sharing. Hey I want to write poems like you too can you give me some tips.

dark poems about death

A wishful touch, soft and tender. Then a whisper, full of desire A sudden gasp of sweet surrender As passion fuels the fire No words spoken between them No promises to be kept No lies being told tonight No looking back - no regret Longing to hold each other Such precious little time Both vowed to another Being lonely their only crime The softness of your lips, whole As they slide over mine Taste like honey to my soul As they take me back in time Oh, the fire of your touch Like hot silk on your tender breasts Tragedy of the tea tree Your bones laid bare As your broken there How did it come to be?

Time has eroded you Wind has swept you The salts and sand All bleached you bland. Share this poet:. Murky Black. My Love Lifes Mirror Cracked Silent Teardrops Weigh Down Falling Star….

Ribbons Of Whispers The Vase The Night Consumes Silent Door Symphony Of Stars Purple Air Calypso Jungle Not gonna lie most of the stuff is cringe. I'm so in love, you are so good! A Wishful Touch Read the full of A Wishful Touch Tragedy Of The Tea Tree.

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My Sweet Darkness.


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