Dark Poems

Fare Thee Well

There's a longing in my soul that drives me ever on
A thirst deep in my being for the place where I belong
And I have traveled many paths to end up here alone.

I found you once when I was young when life was brave and new
I lost you then but found again the place reserved for you
For I have traveled many paths which all lead back to you.

You gave yourself so freely once yet I held back reserve
And suffer now the pain of loss which I so much deserve
And travel now the one lone path from which I can not swerve.

Oh Ed, my friend, beloved friend if on your travels you
Find yourself alone and lost-rest knowing I love you
And though we trek two different paths I always will love you.

Hellbound

She's calling you, calling you
Do you not hear the sound?
She's leaving now; she's almost gone
She's racing swift...hellbound.

Once she held the power
Of love at her command
Not happy she to simply be
But issued more demands.

She kept the flame of love
Within her heart ablaze
But never full she felt the pull
Of the hope of better days.

No longer now the happy times
Enjoying the love she'd found
She can't go back; she has to pack
She's leaving you see...hellbound.

Descending now, she's calling you
Her screams how they resound!
Do you not hear? Or see the tears?
She's nearly gone...hellbound.

Originally posted by whitewave
Fare Thee Well

There's a longing in my soul that drives me ever on
A thirst deep in my being for the place where I belong
And I have traveled many paths to end up here alone.

I found you once when I was young when life was brave and new
I lost you then but found again the place reserved for you
For I have traveled many paths which all lead back to you.

You gave yourself so freely once yet I held back reserve
And suffer now the pain of loss which I so much deserve
And travel now the one lone path from which I can not swerve.

Oh Ed, my friend, beloved friend if on your travels you
Find yourself alone and lost-rest knowing I love you
And though we trek two different paths I always will love you.

Jesus, I wish this girl I've known for years had written this.
( She did love me . . . after all. )

Inspiration

From the anguish of my soul
Come the poems to my pen.

From the moments left shattered
Am I able to feel again.

From deaths own door
Do I suck for life.

When breath's near gone
Do I feel alive.

(A few nursing poems)

Guardian Angel Watch Over Bed One

Guardian angel watch over bed one.
I've bathed him and fed him,
Left nothing undone.

I've changed his dressings with the greatest care.
I've shaved him and prepped him;
There's no germ would dare

To trespass my lines and worsen his state
While he sleeps on, trusting;
Not knowing his fate.

But the dark angel tonight hovers near.
I feel him! I smell him!
Draw your sword! Make clear

The path to wellness for one in my care.
Defend him, mend him
Let him know you're there

Watching, protecting from all that would kill
Saving and guarding
From the One Who Steals.

But if it is kinder to let him die
Be swift I pray you
And quickly draw nigh

To rescue his soul from the Evil One.
Guardian angel
Watch over bed one.

The closer we come to dying,
The more we want to live,

The less we feel like lying,
The more we have to give.

Truth a bitter lesson, honesty a better way,
Your thoughts come through like seedlings, in everything you say.

So tell me . . . have you ever seen a sad rainbow ?

No Regrets

Come talk to me my long time friend
Of pleasant days gone by.
Come dance with me in memories
Until the dawn is nigh.

Come sing with me the happy songs
We once sang in our youth.
Come be with me a little while
And let's forget the truth.

For I am in my golden years
And have suffered through much pain.
The golden hour approaches me
I'll not be late again.

Come sit with me and hold my hand
Smile and say you care
Remind me of the best of times
The two of us have shared.

Do not sigh or mourn for me
Nor hang your head in sorrow
Rejoice with me this one last time
For I'll be gone tomorrow.

Come talk to me my long time friend
Of pleasant days gone by
Come dance with me in memories
Then kiss me and say goodbye.

[This isn't a dark poem but I didn't know what pile to put it in. Is there a place for humorous poems? Feel free to toss it in a more appropriate spot.]

My Hero, My Husband, My Friend

Step inside your castle
Which is mortgaged to the hilt.
Remove your boots, refresh yourself
You look about to wilt.

A long, hard day of corporate fiends?
Slaying dragons at the bar?
You must be quite exhausted.
Did I tell you about the car?

And, oh! my king! You must be informed
Your heirs have run amok.
A coup is planned if you do not
Grant them an extra weekly buck.

The peasants are draining the treas'ry
And your Queen is quite depressed.
I ran up all the charge cards
Save this damsel from distress!

What's this my Lord? You mock me
With your happy carefree laugh.
The kingdom crashes 'round our heads
And all you want is a bath!

Enough of playful kisses!
You've not heard a word I said.
I can not advise you in council
While you're looking to be fed.

The kids are up; I cannot leave
With you to the Master Chamber.
The palace will burn with the oven still on.
I only now remembered.

My Liege I don't see the humor
In all these royal pains.
If you don't give attention directly
The collectors will riot again.

What's that you say? The kings of the North
Have agreed to all your terms?
They've opened an army of offices
And you're to lead their firm?

My Sovereign! All due reverence.
You've done it once again.
From defeat you've saved the princedom!
My hero! My husband. My friend.





[edit on 22-10-2009 by whitewave]

It's fall . . . that's all. Autumn.

The leaves are the prettiest in fall.
They've earned the right to be carried by the wind . . to where-ever.

May Autumn be wonderfully long, filled with song . . . taking us along . . .

Originally posted by SIEGE

Jesus, I wish this girl I've known for years had written this.
( She did love me . . . after all. )

Then I dedicate it to you in her memory.

Originally posted by whitewave

Originally posted by SIEGE

Jesus, I wish this girl I've known for years had written this.
( She did love me . . . after all. )

Then I dedicate it to you in her memory.

And I thank you very much. You are very talented and I enjoy reading
your work. (How could anyone write them that fast !)

reply to post by SIEGE


You're very kind and I thank you for your flattery.
I'll tell you a secret.....Shhhh.......I didn't write all of these today.

Aha . . .

I have to keep reminding myself that the OP wanted "Dark" poems
posted. It is a fine line sometimes between memories and dark. . .

Time to return to my crypt . . . until tomorrow. Thanks again.

reply to post by Azathoth


Normally I wouldn't post my poetry online for any reason whatsoever, but since the emotions and the woman the poems are about are long since gone from me, I feel comfortable posting them.

That and I was inspired to share due to the fact that yourself and I almost have an eerily similar style of poetry. Considering these are all from about nine years ago, and from the sounds of it yours are rather dated as well, perhaps we can inspire each other. Anywho, on with it.....

Aesthetic Suicide

Will you breath your precious breath into me
Within those early waking hours
Once so sacred, so pure
Lulled to sleep you've disappeared
Slipped between the silence of my dreams

Reminders of those hidden barriers
Plastic in texture
Cellophane in strength
Falling beneath the smoldering ruins
Of that which gave me the capacity
The harm of will to break.

Tangents following paths not formed
Evil, holiness plaguing me once more
Desperation of yester-year
Eating those precious moments
Beating down those cardboard doors

Metaphors of emptiness gone
Simply missing once more
All that is left is the quiet
The stillness of whores

Decadent the lifestyle
Fear of the pain
The taste of the bud
Dripping from my veins.

Autonomy

Running like blood from my pen
Words flow out in torrents
Maybe meaning nothing
Simple thoughts lost in pretense

The Ides of March have passed me by
With no lingering memory of yesterday
Hardly a recollection of what was
No varnished whispers in my ear

Another strand of hair
Drenched in misplaced desire
Douse your pictures in gasoline
How I yearn to see
Those little framed lies wrapped in fire

Tearing charades from your naked skin
Purging sickness long held within
You lost our game
I refuse to play anymore
You filthy little strung out whore

Love notes stained under dirty feet
Shreds of refuse
Soiled proclamations of love
Nothing left of me here.

Epilogue

Shuffling my shoes through the dirt
Forcing the boards to creak
Wood half broken and decayed
Crumbling beneath my feet
Today I will do what I must

She said she'd never love me again
Never breath my breath
Or dare to caress my skin
Her heart is lost to me
As it beats beneath her breast

All water under the bridge I suppose
Serene yet angry as it flows

Ferociously slow my footsteps continue
What an arduous walk it has been
On this broken avenue
With nothing more than determination
And memories of her sin

I never thought I'd walk away
Then again I suppose it's my turn
With nothing left to say
Nothing left to learn
I'll just turn my back to the heat
As our lovely bridge burns.

I'm transcribing the most recent poems first, so this is essentially a tumultuous love story in reverse.

The corruption of Juliet

My esoteric bliss long since past
I feel you drift from my universe
As ghosts tend to do
As the warm light of morning
Encroaches upon their perfect misery

You slowly fall behind the shroud of misery
Reminiscent of a child lost in a dense fog
I can still make out your face
Still hear your laughter ringing in my ears
But no I can't smell the sweet fragrance of your hair
Can't believe in "I love yous" after the tears

This room still echoes your name
I try to make it disappear
By picking up your hair clips
The remnants of your broken shoes
Such a shame that everything
In this world reminds me of you

It has been said to love conquers all
What never gets mentioned
The secret no one will tell
Is that love like war is hell

Much like a sapling denied
Audience before Apollo
My heart begins to wither
Choking silently and helplessly
Slowly strangled by the roots of your evil

I can feel my psyche bleed
Torn by knives of deceit
Don't understand what took so long
That it was so impossible to see
You are the worst thing that has ever happened to me.

This will be the last for the evening, I hope that all that read this and all the amazing writers that have posted in the thread thus far have enjoyed my writing.

Fallen Angel

Your lips taste of death
Crimson, sickly sweet
Torment flows from your heart
Infecting all that you meet

Fall to the bottom of your pit
Crawl amongst the demons you harbor
Feed your fear
Fall from grace
All you need to see is that to me
You are dead

My silent compulsions haunt me
They rips at the edges of my tattered soul
I swear I would have died for you
Would have let fires of hell lick my face
For nothing more than your love
Your tender embrace

The taste of your lips still lingers on my tongue
'Twas the sweetest of desires
To be lost between your thighs
Now all I believed we were
Is wrought with bitterness and lies

A wolf in sheep's clothing I suppose
Your angel face shining in darkness
Smiles warming my heart
It wounds me to see all this beauty
Only worked to deepen your deceptions

You may not see this sorrow
That rips through me like cyanide
Through the veins of a death row inmate
May not see the loved buried inside the hate
It's all there just below the surface
It calls to me

I can stand alone
To thyself be true
'I have died a thousand tiny deaths
And every time I died
I thought of you.'

Ok after this one, I'm officially, absolutely, definitely done for the evening. This is in response to Aza's poem Godless. I wrote this when I truly lost my religion. Circa '97 I believe.

Denomination

Feel this disease
Saving Nothing
Giving Nothing
Promising Eternity

Desires drip from our weary minds
Laying with the thief of life
Making sand castles with the Son of God
In the sandbox of delusions

What is the street value of a soul?

So go forth
Worship those who please you
Fall before your golden idols
Kiss the feet of your saints
And bloody martyrs

Never forget
My god is dead.


This isn't even remotely how I feel now, but I still enjoy this one nonetheless.

" What is the street value of a soul ? "

I wandered into this "soul" as I was walking through the park.
It was like walking into a cold space, left by a ghost.
I asked myself, "where is the original host?"

I sat down on a park bench and watched the soul make its way ahead.
Was it searching for someone, maybe alive, maybe dead ?
Then a shyster appeared and said it was taken,
But a glance at the soul showed him only forsaken.

Then the shyster, the devil; offered a dollar and a dime,
enough to buy bread, some cheese and some wine,
if the soul would go with him, and no one would cry,
But I raised up the ante and offered to buy . . . the soul myself.

I sat the soul down, on the bench there beside me,
he'd sold for such, a ridiculously small fee,
that I thought I'd call him worthless, and timid, and bland,
til he jumped up and shouted "All I am is a man"!

Now I'm richer by far, than two days ago,
I've paid quite dearly, for the return of my soul.