Poems About Despair by New Members
#despair
Poems about despair by new members. Poems written by members who joined within the last 30 days.
Emetophilic
Poem Published
21st Jan 2025 12:59pm
21st Jan 2025 12:59pm
The proof of existence
The blood in my system is frozen, cold and true.
The oxygen in my lungs is missing, empty, purity, freedom.
The thoughts in my mind don't exist, they're not heard, they're not here, they are not real.
I will free myself from this earth where I'm suffering.. where you're suffering.
I am the truth, the ruler of freedom, the weaver of emptiness, the tormentor of purity.
Only I can prove to you, what you must believe.
The oxygen in my lungs is missing, empty, purity, freedom.
The thoughts in my mind don't exist, they're not heard, they're not here, they are not real.
I will free myself from this earth where I'm suffering.. where you're suffering.
I am the truth, the ruler of freedom, the weaver of emptiness, the tormentor of purity.
Only I can prove to you, what you must believe.
#dark
#despair
#fate
#MentalHealth
#suffering
57 reads
0 Comments
Emetophilic
Poem Published
21st Jan 2025 12:59pm
21st Jan 2025 12:59pm
The proof of existence
The blood in my system is frozen, cold and true.
The oxygen in my lungs is missing, empty, purity, freedom.
The thoughts in my mind don't exist, they're not heard, they're not here, they are not real.
I will free myself from this earth where I'm suffering.. where you're suffering.
I am the truth, the ruler of freedom, the weaver of emptiness, the tormentor of purity.
Only I can prove to you, what you must believe.
The oxygen in my lungs is missing, empty, purity, freedom.
The thoughts in my mind don't exist, they're not heard, they're not here, they are not real.
I will free myself from this earth where I'm suffering.. where you're suffering.
I am the truth, the ruler of freedom, the weaver of emptiness, the tormentor of purity.
Only I can prove to you, what you must believe.
#dark
#despair
#fate
#MentalHealth
#suffering
57 reads
0 Comments
Emetophilic
Poem Published
21st Jan 2025 12:59pm
21st Jan 2025 12:59pm
The proof of existence
The blood in my system is frozen, cold and true.
The oxygen in my lungs is missing, empty, purity, freedom.
The thoughts in my mind don't exist, they're not heard, they're not here, they are not real.
I will free myself from this earth where I'm suffering.. where you're suffering.
I am the truth, the ruler of freedom, the weaver of emptiness, the tormentor of purity.
Only I can prove to you, what you must believe.
The oxygen in my lungs is missing, empty, purity, freedom.
The thoughts in my mind don't exist, they're not heard, they're not here, they are not real.
I will free myself from this earth where I'm suffering.. where you're suffering.
I am the truth, the ruler of freedom, the weaver of emptiness, the tormentor of purity.
Only I can prove to you, what you must believe.
#dark
#despair
#fate
#MentalHealth
#suffering
57 reads
0 Comments
OccultCatalyst
Poem Published
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
Self-deification
And a raven came wrap wrap wrapping on my door,
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
#apathy
#depression
#despair
#disappointment
#MentalHealth
41 reads
0 Comments
OccultCatalyst
Poem Published
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
Self-deification
And a raven came wrap wrap wrapping on my door,
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
#apathy
#depression
#despair
#disappointment
#MentalHealth
41 reads
0 Comments
OccultCatalyst
Poem Published
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
Self-deification
And a raven came wrap wrap wrapping on my door,
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
#apathy
#depression
#despair
#disappointment
#MentalHealth
41 reads
0 Comments
OccultCatalyst
Poem Published
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
Self-deification
And a raven came wrap wrap wrapping on my door,
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
#apathy
#depression
#despair
#disappointment
#MentalHealth
41 reads
0 Comments
OccultCatalyst
Poem Published
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
Self-deification
And a raven came wrap wrap wrapping on my door,
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
#apathy
#depression
#despair
#disappointment
#MentalHealth
41 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Despair by New Members
