Poetry competition CLOSED 3rd June 2019 4:12am
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Thetravelingfairy
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Darkest Poem

poet
GothicDeadRose
Meghan Lawrence
Strange Creature
United States
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Joined 30th Mar 2017
Forum Posts: 2

Poetry Contest

Post your darkest poem.
I want to see who can come up with the best morbid, gruesome, disturbing, or just plain out dark poem.

poet
LibraSoul96
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 1st July 2015
Forum Posts: 330

Colors X

   
Black is the vivid picture I paint of life.

Red is the blood I shed through every slit.

Purple is what I turn when I   
suffocate myself in sorrow.

Blue is the water I pretend to drown myself in.

Gray is my grave where I will lay peacefully.

Yellow is the sun that burns through my skin with its death defying rays.

Brown is the hand I use to strangle myself tightly with.

Green is how lucky I get to have thoughts of death.

White is what I turn when I feel every scar of hatred.     
  
Fantasies that run through my mind of all these colors painting their marks on my naked canvas.

Each stroke of color painting its meaning on my body.

 Each color possessing me to forever live my life in utter turmoil.

Each color slicing my body open to enter its poison into my veins.

Making a florescent rainbow inside of me.    

 Black is the bruise on my eyes.

Red is my dynamite of a heart that is about to explode.

Purple is what I get when I can't breath from demons forever chasing me.

Blue is my tears that turn to acid.

 Gray is life that has no meaning through my vision.

Yellow is the bright light known as the afterlife.

Brown is the mud that people constantly walk all over me in.

Green is the grass that dies when I step on it.

White is the paper that I am without ink all over me.    

 Every emotion and every thought is a beautiful nightmare.

Blood turning into a stream of colors flowing down to my black heart.

I must have gold like a leprechaun is jumping inside of me.

No matter what colors are inside of me nothing can stop the dark soul that brews inside of me.

 Slowly letting the demons inside of me to control my existence.  

  With every sadistic color taking a tour of my body I start to feel a burst of sunshine come over me.

I feel as though I should cut out my black whole of a heart and throw it in a fiery furnace to burn in to ashes.

Colors start to be my new best friend turning my soul around.

No more damp days and nights being soaked in my conscience.

No more demons eating away at me. Only beautiful colors feeding my thirsts for reality and sanity.
Written by LibraSoul96
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poet
AEMelia564
Y
Tyrant of Words
Norway
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Joined 20th Apr 2016
Forum Posts: 2256

Myth of the mantis

Praying mantis smiles at me
when she crushes open
Wings of time, and neon rainbows
open skies, it is for Life, She cries

Murmering "murder" singing dark
mantras of Love , woven around
Her deep undying heart
Vampiric eruptions twirled

Luscious tones awaken
Her serpentine tongue slithering
From bone, to bone, sliding
across the spinal chord

I am Her prey
Written by AEMelia564 (Y)
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poet
Thetravelingfairy
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 12th July 2017
Forum Posts: 71

The Voice of Hell

Here she rises
From the pits of hell
Mistress of the shadows
Clothed in Satan’s veil

Her words like fire
Storm from her tongue
She summons every demon
She calls each one by name

“Yahweh! Yahweh!” Chants the beast
They sit down for the feast
Heaven trembles at her voice
They bow down at her feet

We know her reign has come
Darkness will arise
No angel ever dared deny
God cannot defy

Every damned thing will live
Every holy thing will die
She whispers “I will make things right”
Hell will win tonight
Written by Thetravelingfairy
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poet
A_Failed_Artist
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 19th Nov 2018
Forum Posts: 45

Paralysis

Eyelids barely awaken as the body tries to move.  
It can't. It can't move. It can't move at all.
Pinned by a force only visible to the sleepers' eye.  
Mommy now enters the room.
She thinks that you are still sleeping.
She doesn't see who's choking you.  
Screaming through stapled lips.
HM!
Mommy can't hear you.
HHMM!
No one can.  
HHHMMM!
Cheeks covered in kisses.
HHHMMM!
Goodnight child.
HHHHHHHMMMMMM!
The battle is lost. You cannot breathe.
The beast has taken your hope and filled it with loss.
You shut your eyes and the last thing you see is him smiling.
Written by A_Failed_Artist
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poet
Heart_symphony
Twisted Dreamer
Canada
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Joined 17th Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 45

Sadomasochists Lullaby

I hurt you, you hurt me
Let’s see who’s blood drips first

Can you truly feel intense love
If you don’t have a drop of masochism in you?
Because deep love tears you apart

It slowly unstitches
your heart
But it feels like you’re being
torn apart

You’re so pretty when you cry
Come over here and let me dry your eyes
I’m the one who put you in pain
Say my name and I’ll fill your mind with beautiful lies

I can twist words
And manipulate
Trickery is a skill
And I’ve mastered the art

Inch closer to hear what I have planned
In my dungeon of love
Let me bind you with trust
I promise to take you to the heavens above

My sadistic side likes to play with knifes
I practiced etching my name into wood
In preparation for your skin
Just stay still, and don’t move an inch

Your skin is the canvas
My blade a paint brush
So let the blood flow
And we can create our masterpiece

Scream and cry
Until your throat is raw
Then fall to pieces
Begging for more

Our pain is a blood symphony
And I am the maestro
Directing our orchestra
With a blade
Written by Heart_symphony
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poet
AspergerPoet56
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom
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Joined 4th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 503

First Slice

First a slice
Then a tear
It started with a drip
Then a a trickle
Ending with a gush
This is how sanity slips
Nothing sensible remains
Only an urge to destroy
Finally numb to the world
This coming darkness
The friendliest feeling
All the agony inside
Is slowly fading
To nothing
Written by AspergerPoet56
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poet
Mtnclimr
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 21st Apr 2019
Forum Posts: 1

Sometimes I hate the night

Sunlight gets tangled in the shadows and is swiftly consumed by starlight and thought finds a playground to ravage one's heart.

Insecurities stab deep as demons from yesterdark try to live in the tonight leaving one shaking and cold.

Mind flirts with buying wares offered , disoriented by past pain and deception.

I pray for morning to quickly come and to make clear the things which I "know" to be sure.

Sometimes I hate the night.
Written by Mtnclimr
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poet
gothicsurrealism
Daniel Long
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 26th Nov 2018
Forum Posts: 84

The Grey Man and His Corpse

Fierce gusts of icy sleet sheared their faces.
Behind them, deep red footprints in the snow.

A grey man carried a body, hollow of air, she was dusted in cherry flakes of snow.
A glacial tear had wandered down her stiff cheek from a moon that was once her starry eye.

Into the snowy fray these hollowed red footpaths meander on,
into his wintry, black mind no one followed.

Beyond the black, wicked spikes of leafless trees,
into the evening blue, his soulless spirit danced.

He took her frozen hand and she held on tight.
He looked at her and she had a smile frozen in time.

He didn’t want to let go just then, her departed smile guided him still.
They entered the thickly wood, trotting and smiling.

He swore she kept looking at him with shut eyes,
So, he lifted her to his grey face and kissed her icy lips.

“I wished she'd kiss” whispered the grey man.
“Your tears have frozen like glaciers” he added.
 
“I’ll chip the still stream you’ve bled away.”
“I’ll tend to the cuts your sharp, glacial tears have carved.”

She hadn’t bled since the descending winter sun was impaled by the wicked, lifeless tree branches,
He petted her cheek with his coarse palms.
     
He swore felt her warm breath on his neck
as he carried her through the dismal wood.

“You don’t have to say anything” he said.
“I know you wanted me to kiss you.”

He pressed her stiff, plump lips against his neck.
He firmed his grip around her; kissing her.

A shearing gust came. Her hair swayed in the flurries
of the winter-night’s storm.
Written by gothicsurrealism (Daniel Long)
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poet
ReggiePoet
Reggie
Fire of Insight
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Joined 13th May 2018
Forum Posts: 186

Castration Game

a story, in verse
 
In time, the teenagers will entertain themselves with crime.
Their bloodshed will define their favored games, and their pastimes!
They’ll join gangs, not for profit, but for having gruesome fun,
the gang that is most violent will be deemed the number one!
 
Girl-gangs are feared the most, they play the foul Castration Game!
The terrifying goal of it: male genitals are maimed!
The points are scored by cutting off the penises of men,
with bonus score for testicles from wealthy businessmen!
 
The fun comes, not from winning, but from domination’s torture!
Young ladies crave inducing men to cower in fear and horror!
They wear their ghastly trophies on their belts and ‘round their necks,
and publish names and photographs, when slicing off men's sex!
 
This gruesome pastime has polluted public education,
and the schools do nothing to prevent young men's castration!
Each girl boasts openly of all the eunuchs she has made,
naming every guy who she has neutered with her blade!
 
These gals display the genitals, of guys they have ransacked,
by playing with them! ...to intimidate boys still intact!
Teasing, "Let me add your cock and balls to my collection!
I can see you want to!  Are are getting an erection?"

 
Sadly, the authorities are useless in this matter.
Privately, the leadership supports these vile attackers!
It counters what they deem as “toxic masculinity,”
reducing male dominance with simple brilliancy!
 
The poison of this game has spread through whole communities,
and people are now seeking vengeful opportunity!
Neighbors settle scores by helping catch the man next door,
and give him to the girls, who do the things we should abhor!
 
The rules by which they cut the victim’s genitals away
are to preserve the trophies that they slice off of their prey!
They seek to maximize humiliation, shame, and pain,
and, if a man has sons, they’ll castrate all of them the same!
 
Women folk don’t seem to mind when their men get caught out,
a husband’s cock can be replaced by many things, no doubt!
The men who have been castrated are easier to boss;
and, truth be told, most cocks are small! Thus, they are no great loss!
 
A trade in mounted manhood; a black market, if you will,
has come about through cruelty and taxidermists’ skill,
where victim’s genitalia, with their names inscribed thereon,
are traded and collected to humiliate them all!
 
This gruesome game eventually captures public attention,
and news broadcasts begin to track the genital dissection!
They'll give the scores for each gang, in the sportscast of each night,
and reveal the lurid details of some famous victim’s plight!
 
This story of a future world of torture, crime and pain,
where a man’s most private parts are in public disdain
might not be brought about, we cannot know if time will bring
a future where some teenage girl will wear my cock as bling!
 
Written by ReggiePoet (Reggie)
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poet
Orc_Pirate_68
Sabrina Kirk-Caldwell
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 29th June 2018
Forum Posts: 235

Why Can This Not Be Real?

I once had a dream, so lurid,
So vivid,
So pleasing,
So sad that I was but only dreaming.
So sad that it could never be,
In three parts this dream came to me:


Part One - The Murder:


Hark, hear the screams and cries of pain!
Smell the iron of blood, and the scorching of flesh to entertain!
See the fright and the pain!
Feel the shock, as knife hits bone!
Taste the saltiness of tears, and then later, the succulence of cooked flesh, a flavor unknown!


Part Two - A Celebratory Dinner:

Crimson and ruby liquid pours forth from the goblet,
Sitting on a tufted seat of the utmost comfort,
Cuts of pain, slow cooked, and seasoned with sadness,
And drizzled with delicious bitterness.

Served with a side of salty asparagus,
On a plate of jaded delph, precious,
Gilded in fine, rage,
Next to a napkin of woven freedom and privilege,
Eaten with a fork teethed in tenacity, belligerence, arrogance, and crassness,
And a knife of vanity, handle, detailed in false niceness.

All set upon a table of audacity,
With a cloth of satisfaction draped over the entirety,
By the fireplace of calm eeriness,
In the hall of blissful happiness.
Music, a calm and pleasant tune,
A homage to the riddance of the poor sap, jejune,
Played on the harp strings of sinew,
From the victim, cuckoo.

In a room painted mauve,
All situated above,
The acrid basement of entertaining horror, eternity,
With the now empty, bloodied, wall chains of finality.


Part Three - The Next Day:

Skipping down the street smiling,
Little do they know the darkness that I'm hiding,
Giggling at the jokes in my head,
Some of them innocent, and some of them about the bloodshed.

My Mary Janes pitter-patter down the sidewalk,
After my life's great epoch,
My moment in the sun, my handiwork,
My moment of truth,
Where I figured out who I was, my eternal oath,
To rid the world of you,
To end once and for all, you.

Poor woman, you used your slutty ugliness,
To mask your banality, and obvious lack of fitness.
Just kidding, I didn't and don't pity you,
I only felt murderous rage at you,
And now a happiness no one will ever know was because of you.

Hats off to you my dear,
Your divine screams were music to my ears,
Your pleas for me to stop,
Teardrop after teardrop,
Made me squeal with joy and laughter,
At your torture and your slaughter.

Dumping your body in a ditch,
Then home, and to the news I switch.
This once, I did renege my pledge to intentionally harm none,
By harming just this one,
It is better for the world,
A world without you, that I thought only fabled.

Crocodile tears at your death, I cried,
This was the only time I lied,
And felt no guilt,
From the actions that thrilled!


And this was the dream I dreamed,
The ennui dreams of the optimistic hearted,
Longing for a better reality,
And just a bit of fun, really.
Written by Orc_Pirate_68 (Sabrina Kirk-Caldwell)
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poet
wallyroo92
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 779

The Excommunicated

The catatonic cadavers woke and insidiously moved
In hedonic rituals that enticed those festering eyes
And amid the pandemonium the dilapidated guests
Convulsed out of their sarcophaguses to agonize

Bile drew up their esophagus short of regurgitation
In a chronic mastication to electronic hexing tunes
And they frolicked and gyrated their sensual bodies
Like seductive maggots coming out of their cocoons

The decomposed sounds of Bacchanalian symphonic chants
Along with their tantalizing Sapphic and histrionic gestures
Could make any man dead or alive succumb to desire
Regardless of putrid scents weaving through the textures

How can one say no to such a parasitic persuasion?
When they influence you in sardonic hypnotic tones
Climaxing your brain with a tonic arcane
For your quivering flesh to crawl along the bones

It was a sultry scene of erotic nightmares and dreams
Articulated amid bloody coughs from pneumonic lungs
But their clamors sang praise for the excommunicated
Sensually mnemonic when they all spoke in tongues

poet
flowerchildmeshely
Flowerchildmeshelly
Lost Thinker
United States
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Joined 18th May 2014
Forum Posts: 5

placebo of herion

Your mind is my drug....your words are the needle....you feel my addiction is evil....I lose my self at the sound of your voice I'm a saint by birth and a sinner by choice....your my habit your grip like a vice ....withdrawls make me pay any price....when I feel I must hold you real close ...that voice in my head says don't overdose .....family quick to convict the drug that I choose but can't understand the narcotic I use...self medicate bc I feel used by a world I found ain't real ...she never fought to condem me she talked I listen I chose what to see ....I do the drugs they don't do me....to all addicts who know what I say .... Rehab is for quitters a role that people play..... When u decide to stop that ur time to say ...it is what it is and what it was .a soul. .Steal ..till I make that desicion ....truth makes it real...heroin is her name she has one heart that I know...adding me to her army of hope...a family of legends a science of her ....unaware she'll take u and not share unaware that I'm now her true gazing stare walk away if I choose I'm the only one who can lose it's called personal drug abuse
Written by flowerchildmeshely (Flowerchildmeshelly)
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poet
HadesRising
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 8th June 2013
Forum Posts: 1577

- - - IMMORTAL - - -


Celestial epilogues remain beyond reach
The ending evades like vile phantoms that leech
 
Serpent tongues speak of faerie chapter verse
The curse in reverse masquerading as lovers submersed
In churning waters of slaughter, chaotic, obscured
 
A ravensong uttered within the dismay
Jealous knives in the Theatre of Pompey
 
Even the devil knows we suffered too long
The torments of Hell and the agony of chains
This highway is empty but for hollow bones
Lining my path, if alone, wherein lies the pain?
If not me, who then will suffer the shadows
Leaching the life from those innocent thralls
Falling or crawling from spires and below
Echoing the screams from damnation halls?
 
Sever the veins pumping blood from me, henceforth
Pool it beneath me with the storms of the north
 
Failure shines in eyes of the unjust
The rust and the lust of angelic crusts in winter gusts
‘Neath crescent moonlight and dead night beside Erebus
 
Betrayal hung, heavily, in weeping trees
And shrouding the Garden of Gethsemane
 
My heart sleeps in a canopic jar
Preserved for eternal torment
Witchcraft woven by concubines
Reserved in haunted laments
The womb of doom split open
For mourning moons, broken
Thus is the tale of my descent
 
Thy orchestra plays tunes of the crimson chaste
Pouring from the succubi just for a taste

“Madness pours from Satan’s phallus
To the mouths of legions scorned by God
Cunting bitch and bastard caress
Groping the last vestiges
Of righteous blood”

 
Curtains of velvety sin
Entertain holy glory holes
Necro-fantasies and Lovecraft
Bells in the air
Toll their despair
When nothing satisfies
Woes of immortality
 
I miss the murder
Of crows in summer flight
The distant thunder
Unseen in moonless night
In mid October
Gnashing sodomites
Coked out or sober
Screaming for cenobites
 
Eyeless with death’s head grin
I’m watching the legions of damned
Begging upon their bleeding knees
Rot in the air
Stinks of despair
When nothing satisfies
Woes of immortality
 
I crave the hunger
Of lions for Christians
Nights become sundered
With saboteur mischief
No resurrection
For followers of fraud
My imperfection
Shines before holy God

“Laughter within haunted hallways
Above where Stygian waters flow
Pyres burn with infernal blaze
Ares and Aphrodite
Fuck to murdered crows”

 
Obsidian skies hang over early dawn
Renewing the doom by old kings and khans
 
I spat, bitterly, on the hourglass
The casque of the last noblemen of cold houses, outclassed
When the desire of fire fails in black mass
 
Crucifixions will no longer redeem you
The poison in her kiss reminds me of dew
 
Even the devil knows we suffered too long
The torments of Hell and the agony of chains
This highway is empty but for hollow bones
Lining my path, if alone, wherein lies the pain?
If not me, who then will suffer the shadows
Leaching the life from those innocent thralls
Falling or crawling from spires and below
Echoing the screams from damnation halls?
 
And when the morningstar seems so far away
I wait before the morn for the break of day
 
But I will never have a taste of death
The depth of Macbeth madness and the shallow breath
Cruel be witches and bitches in trials and tests
 
From courts of owls to the feasts with the Norns
Olympians lay idle and wait for war horns
 
I sleep in a sarcophagus
Await the day to rise again
Eons of death flash through my mind
All alone within my bane
The womb of doom split open
For mourning moons, broken
Thus is the tale of my disdain
 
Remember me with red moons and monoliths
Just so I remember the times with her sylph
 
I miss the murder
Of crows in summer flight
The distant thunder
Unseen in moonless night
In mid October
Gnashing sodomites
Coked out or sober
Screaming for cenobites
 
Eyeless with death’s head grin
I’m watching the legions of damned
Begging upon their bleeding knees
Rot in the air
Stinks of despair
When nothing satisfies
Woes of immortality
 
I crave the hunger
Of lions for Christians
Nights become sundered
With saboteur mischief
No resurrection
For followers of fraud
My imperfection
Shines before holy God
 
Curtains of velvety sin
Entertain holy glory holes
Necro-fantasies and Lovecraft
Bells in the air
Toll their despair
When nothing satisfies
Woes of immortality
 
 
 
(c) 2016 Frank Green
Image is by the-echoes-of-silence.tumblr.com
Written by HadesRising
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poet
Tallen
earth_empath
Tyrant of Words
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Joined 15th Oct 2018
Forum Posts: 815

SYMBIOTIC, NO.

Scratching at an open wound to get at my marrow
While dark red from damaged veins pours out slow.
Reaching for femurs fully cracked and narrow
You drain my life, my zeal, my glow.
 
A love offering of gauze and tape
And sex to suture, mend and heal.
But fractured promises felt like rape
Leaking bright crimson's sticky feel.
 
Adipose tissued compromises failed
Torn ligamented hopes of two strained.
Rotting flesh of forgiveness jailed
As decomposing divorce is on its way.
 
Marrow gone and drained of red
No more joy or playful glow.
Narrow escape and barely not dead
Aorta Yes, Symbiotic, No.
Written by Tallen (earth_empath)
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