What is dark poetry?
WHAT may seem dark to you may not be too me in my eyes it is a form of expression being able to just let your emotions flow with out being hindered or halted.
Death and Destruction comes this way
Death and Destruction comes to play
Death and Destruction will have its way
This Day
Death and Destruction comes this way
Death and Destruction comes to play
Death and Destruction will have its way
This Day
This is dark poetry...
Chomo
As you lay there in a puddle
of your own blood and bile,
and your thoughts race
a dying man's final thoughts,
May those thoughts consist of this
perfect being that you robbed with cruel disregard for this is the purest driving force
known to man..
The power of a child's innocence...
And as you wrestle to plug the holes
from which you leak like a seive,
in futil attempt at that one last chance of life,
you grow weak and dizzy of blood loss,
I hope it registers with you,
that you lay on the slippery slope to death,
because of the savage disregard
displayed in ripping from that child their innocence..
And just a split second before you die, I want the pain equivalent
of a thousand lifetimes of wasted youth thrust through your mind..
A dying man's thoughts..
And just you know..
As you go up in smoke to the smell of gasoline,
I won't waste the piss that it takes to put your gums out..
Intricate B
Chomo
As you lay there in a puddle
of your own blood and bile,
and your thoughts race
a dying man's final thoughts,
May those thoughts consist of this
perfect being that you robbed with cruel disregard for this is the purest driving force
known to man..
The power of a child's innocence...
And as you wrestle to plug the holes
from which you leak like a seive,
in futil attempt at that one last chance of life,
you grow weak and dizzy of blood loss,
I hope it registers with you,
that you lay on the slippery slope to death,
because of the savage disregard
displayed in ripping from that child their innocence..
And just a split second before you die, I want the pain equivalent
of a thousand lifetimes of wasted youth thrust through your mind..
A dying man's thoughts..
And just you know..
As you go up in smoke to the smell of gasoline,
I won't waste the piss that it takes to put your gums out..
Intricate B
By just being on this site and posting our work in the various places we do here, that sort of makes each of us guilty of self promotion in the sense that putting your writing out there, is for the intent of having it be read, thereby calling attention to it and us as authors. Therefore, unless someone is blatantly clogging up every thread around here with "look at me " sort of stuff, then one needs to look at what the actual definition of self promotion entails as it applies to this website which is basically in part, just for that.
Pusedo-care said:You called me a rookie and you expect me to bow my head and go yes master lol? I said self-promotion. Who told you
To take my corny seriously lol. Need to relax.
How do you know I'm taking you seriously?
Maybe I'm just some salty ass red head like that buster Evan Sarav that likes to test the gaul of the site's rookies?
Think about that slap nuts..
To take my corny seriously lol. Need to relax.
How do you know I'm taking you seriously?
Maybe I'm just some salty ass red head like that buster Evan Sarav that likes to test the gaul of the site's rookies?
Think about that slap nuts..
The valley of tears
From afar;
deep in the darkest
of a land unknown,
piercing the deafening silence
of a pitch black night,
a shriek.
Echoing from deep in a valley
(cut from stone with a river of sorrow)
to the peaks of mountains unknown-
of striking uninhabitable hights;
created by boulders of thought.
Pieces of broke down
internal walls
and emotional baggage of 31 years.
The shriek of unnatural octave,
Cuts like a hot knife,
through warm butter,
the fog of dense emotional retention,
in the valley of tears.
Lost in his cave,
Locked securely
with invisible bars
of broken heart
and a lock of looped insanity.
The only key?
Unknown.
Eyes adjusting to the darkest
pitch black;
trying with utmost sincerity to make out,
what creature could produce
such a gut wrenching cry of anguish.
And, as my eyes adjust
to the minuscule specs of illumination present,
I fall back landing upon my ass.
In gross realization, I get sick
with disbelief.
For, where I expected to see
a banshee with hin nuts in a snare;
I see only a mirror with me looking back..
Intricate B
From afar;
deep in the darkest
of a land unknown,
piercing the deafening silence
of a pitch black night,
a shriek.
Echoing from deep in a valley
(cut from stone with a river of sorrow)
to the peaks of mountains unknown-
of striking uninhabitable hights;
created by boulders of thought.
Pieces of broke down
internal walls
and emotional baggage of 31 years.
The shriek of unnatural octave,
Cuts like a hot knife,
through warm butter,
the fog of dense emotional retention,
in the valley of tears.
Lost in his cave,
Locked securely
with invisible bars
of broken heart
and a lock of looped insanity.
The only key?
Unknown.
Eyes adjusting to the darkest
pitch black;
trying with utmost sincerity to make out,
what creature could produce
such a gut wrenching cry of anguish.
And, as my eyes adjust
to the minuscule specs of illumination present,
I fall back landing upon my ass.
In gross realization, I get sick
with disbelief.
For, where I expected to see
a banshee with hin nuts in a snare;
I see only a mirror with me looking back..
Intricate B
