Dark Poems Seeking Honest Critique
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Evil poetry and morbid poems about death and horror
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MASTER OF MUTILATION
#dark
#zombies
7 reads
1 Comment
Between Sacred and Profane
i did mean to make you spill
If you are hurt, then you'll heal
Epicurean is a devilish will
There is too much left to enjoy
Away from flesh, lust and pill
What doesn't kill you
Gives you good health
what doesn't hurt you
Drags you in more filth
Spare false words
To a stormy day
And sow today
you shall reap someday
Leave your complains
On your dusty shelf
And be a man for once
The a stoic wolf, dies
Don't pity on your self
...
If you are hurt, then you'll heal
Epicurean is a devilish will
There is too much left to enjoy
Away from flesh, lust and pill
What doesn't kill you
Gives you good health
what doesn't hurt you
Drags you in more filth
Spare false words
To a stormy day
And sow today
you shall reap someday
Leave your complains
On your dusty shelf
And be a man for once
The a stoic wolf, dies
Don't pity on your self
...
#depression
#illness
#SelfHarm
34 reads
0 Comments
My birthday
I want my son.
#nature
19 reads
0 Comments
The in between
The darkness is closing in
I hear it banging on the walls
Of my mind, my soul and everything within
Listening to the sound of my breath as it stalls
Everything comes rushing in at a pace thats hard to bear
Reaching for a hand but no one is there
Can anyone see me or do they just not care
Thinking of happy times I get lost in a stare
In between worlds I refuse to let go
Grasping at ghosts as my hand slips through
How could I ever possibly not know
From the beginning it was only you
The whole time its been you
I hear it banging on the walls
Of my mind, my soul and everything within
Listening to the sound of my breath as it stalls
Everything comes rushing in at a pace thats hard to bear
Reaching for a hand but no one is there
Can anyone see me or do they just not care
Thinking of happy times I get lost in a stare
In between worlds I refuse to let go
Grasping at ghosts as my hand slips through
How could I ever possibly not know
From the beginning it was only you
The whole time its been you
#death
#despair
#heartbroken #regret
#heartbroken #regret
41 reads
5 Comments
Swami vivekananda.
Dear Swami
I want to across the ocean with you.
I want to across the ocean with you.
#nature
15 reads
0 Comments
DNR
DNR
#death
#MovingOn
877 reads
4 Comments
dreaming in carnage
#dreams
#nightmares
17 reads
6 Comments
Cannibal Consummation
I peel your layers
Undress the skin clothing you
Caress your dripping flesh
Lick nerve sensations
Cleanse you in dirty breath
Devour raw vitality
Pleasure permeates
Don't just cry in release
Scream in painful pleasure!
Lose yourself in my body
As I eat parts of yours for dinner
The object of my affection
Serve me forever
In death we do not part
But spill our putrescent life
For the earth...
Undress the skin clothing you
Caress your dripping flesh
Lick nerve sensations
Cleanse you in dirty breath
Devour raw vitality
Pleasure permeates
Don't just cry in release
Scream in painful pleasure!
Lose yourself in my body
As I eat parts of yours for dinner
The object of my affection
Serve me forever
In death we do not part
But spill our putrescent life
For the earth...
#dark
#evil
#earth #horror
#earth #horror
40 reads
3 Comments
Brothers In Bond
entertaining the powers that be
they come to me to see what I'm made of
groaning from growing pains in the immortal sense
they won't pass me if I'm not up to snuff
exposing me to all kinds of trials
my witchiness must be sharp
a warrioress of the way
mock wars to ready one for the eventual
the man Himself says it's coming
preparing me he says it must be instinct like drawing a breath
no questions in the moment, respond
a weapon sure and deadly his people ready
we will take our opponent down
He has not revealed...
they come to me to see what I'm made of
groaning from growing pains in the immortal sense
they won't pass me if I'm not up to snuff
exposing me to all kinds of trials
my witchiness must be sharp
a warrioress of the way
mock wars to ready one for the eventual
the man Himself says it's coming
preparing me he says it must be instinct like drawing a breath
no questions in the moment, respond
a weapon sure and deadly his people ready
we will take our opponent down
He has not revealed...
#brother
#family
38 reads
4 Comments
Okai
The oaktree
Graft orange.
Graft orange.
#trees
18 reads
0 Comments
The Day We Met
The deafening tears in the hallway
As whispers echo in the distance
Screams approaching the doorway
I'm fading out of existence
I hear the sound of a screeching door
As the nurse let my family in
The shuffling of shoes on the floor
As drool runs slowly down my chin
I feel the moisture from his tears
From a face I can't remember
I love you dad is all I hear
Sounds of his voice so familiar
Can't place where I know him from
My eyes still unable to open
But my heart is soothed with comfort
Memories coming...
As whispers echo in the distance
Screams approaching the doorway
I'm fading out of existence
I hear the sound of a screeching door
As the nurse let my family in
The shuffling of shoes on the floor
As drool runs slowly down my chin
I feel the moisture from his tears
From a face I can't remember
I love you dad is all I hear
Sounds of his voice so familiar
Can't place where I know him from
My eyes still unable to open
But my heart is soothed with comfort
Memories coming...
#sadness
#dark
#heartbroken
#despair
#emptiness
63 reads
0 Comments
154 Sonnets
Each a verse form of cathexis selfie
where Shakespeare linked his ink with how to think
about what we would call psychology
packaged as an Elizabethan shrink
in a pre-Freudian disposition
pre-empting any Oedipal complex
or too withal awkward disquisition
in the canon days of renaissance sex
when fretfulness was as much troth plighted
as syphilis by an alehouse knave
or a wench to see a knighthood blighted
until nullified by a churchyard grave...
as their sliding pain and pleasure scale
also brought them to little...
where Shakespeare linked his ink with how to think
about what we would call psychology
packaged as an Elizabethan shrink
in a pre-Freudian disposition
pre-empting any Oedipal complex
or too withal awkward disquisition
in the canon days of renaissance sex
when fretfulness was as much troth plighted
as syphilis by an alehouse knave
or a wench to see a knighthood blighted
until nullified by a churchyard grave...
as their sliding pain and pleasure scale
also brought them to little...
#bittersweet
85 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Dark Poetry Seeking Critique. Dark Poems about Death, Horror and Evil