Most Commented Dark Poetry Poems (2,485)

This is mans heart tis more black than skin,
As midnight is dark, the blackness within.
Under bones and tissue it cannot be hid,
Most wicked the issue, the evil it did.
So the colour seeps thru, the red overcome,
By something much darker, as dead it becomes.
So great the offences, I cannot count ways,
But reasons to shorten its number of days.
Pure evil the thing, 'tis black as a (w)hole,
So black is the soul, even blacker than coal!
J.S.

I am haunted
incapable of escaping you
I would rather be tortured
than lose you...

You the haunted house
your dark ancestors
peer out of the windows
of your haunted eyes
walking in a no-mans land
between life and death
sleeping yet walking...

I will not exorcise you
from my existence
I'd miss your sweet fragrance
the soft sound
of your footsteps to my doorway...

Tonight I lie awake
in this haunting darkness
waiting for the night to end
but your image will not leave
lingering behind my eyes
the haunting begins...

His soft breath is hot and compelling
My heart is beating fast
I can hear the angels calling
But my strength is fading fast

Tears are silently rolling down my cheeks
I can hear the demons whisper
My body feels weak as I wonder
Will tonight be a night I'll remember

I can hear the angels calling me
Their sweet voices calms my soul
But the demons whispers are stronger
And have on me a magnetic hold

Drowning out the angelic source
His kiss has made me weak
but I will forever keep on fighting
For my mind and soul are mine alone to keep

I hold up my cup to catch the rain,
Tasting on my tongue like salty sea spray,
Choking on sadness, hurt, and regret,
Mixed with angry, bitter, emptiness,
Despite this I take another sip,
Liquid stinging cracked, parched lips,
I find after a time it's not so bad,
The flavor grows on you in fact,
This thirst I hope subsides with time,
Drink after drink of the running brine,
Gulping down these tears of mine...

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Toys scattered over the play ground, lost
Taunts cries lingering as if in a stance
All gone, but one left with darkened feelings
Holding onto life's gift of second chance


Searching deeply for strength to continue
Gathering power to hold close to thee
No need for mirrors every step engraved
No one knows me better than I know me


Releasing visions of what I would like
Freeing destiny to be as it should
Paining myself by allowing it so
Letting go of what one knows is not good


Torn but still completely whole my soul bare
Some weights in life one must carry not share

Goosebumps rising
Chilled rush of skin
Endorphin's poppin
Adrenaline swim.

I don't usually face what my mind fears the most
When those times come around my feet step back a few
Rational reason nowhere to be found!

What the hell was I thinking getting this close
That fear that feeling that fear that's feared most.

I'd no idea that pushing this far
Would open the wound and cast out the scar.

What the hell was I thinking I must have been mad
That part of your life you feel you've been had.

They say close your eyes......sure
Then the fear becomes scared
Mind runs in circles
You can't be prepared.

So I step to the edge to the edge one more time
Just like before I'm not feeling fine!


~Bentlee~

I was sleeping in dream state,
I was with you,
We were alone,
It was only us two,
Deep in my sleep I was holding you close,
It was then that I awoke,
With tearing eyes and closing throat,
I gasped aloud and almost choked,
As if surrounded by clouds of smoke,
The waves cascaded and my heart broke,
I realized that I was alone,
That it was only me inside my home,
And you were gone forever more,
Grief shaking my very core,
I only wished to go back to sleep,
Where we were happy and you were with me...

Sad Alas! found wanting for a caring God,
in trenches there, cold, wet and drear
amid the mud drenched waring sod,
the slopes of death, hovered unknown to care,

Impotent artillery extinguished breath of many
amid the alarms of man mad wanton battle,
whose measured worth, but a copper penny,
'twas just but numbers, like slaughtered cattle,

cursive be, proud inventors of this sullen war,
whence, indiscriminate carnage tore limb from limb,
as comatose he stood amid the thunderous roar,
no longer could he let the rifle speak for him,

transfixed, stood with expressions vacant stare,
for one moment brief, the war had flown,
yet alone, like an unloved empty chair,
the flower of Spring ne'er again to own,

gone the turmoil 'twixt nations heart,
vanished the canvas strokes of waring art,
lost, the sweet rhetoric of its name,
of the 'Gentleman's war and its game,

one moment brief, just there and then
no war, nor artilleries fire of hell,
drank deep the vision of his own Eden,
yet a differing death, toll'd the waiting bell,

sweet homeland shires in vision seemed,
like days of yore he used to know,
where orchard blossoms softly gleamed,
like, flurries of Winter's first whiten'd snow,

there beside the beloved cottage door,
sweet-scented honeysuckle profusely hung,
yet by dawn, alas! he'll see, nor feel no more,
doom'd by unjust military law, to die so young,

charged, that from the battle did unjustly shrink,
cowardice charged, exampled as a sacrificial pawn,
a poisoned chalice, so unaware did drink,
defenceless, blindfold, alone, coldly shot at dawn,

shall we, with stoic heart e'er brave
make obsolete his flowerless unsung grave,
remembering the flower of youth so gave
of tender years, an underaged unknown English knave.

elixir,emulsion,emanation
mystic impregnation
impulse...
touching your body of emotions
sensual note jumble...
roseblood,blue night carnation
black desire
provocative aroma...

Caught in a rip - the beach was unprotected
And no lifesavers there on Christmas Day
Where father now my life he resurrected
As I sunk in the white spume - my mortal clay
Was close to drowning - had he not detected
My Mums alarm - and witnessed her dismay-
As I sunk so very close to drowning
He leap't into the surf - his own life risking.

There I was - half drowned and hearing bells
Stuck in the vortex of a boiling surf
So very close - indeed- to where death dwells
And only nine years on from my birth
Drowning vitality in stormy swells
(And being too young to know just who to curse)
Though - almost - I did not live to tell of this:
Fighting - panic - drowning - in the sea's blue abyss.

The surf's wild spume of salty spray engulfed me
Dragging me into the current's vortex
And now the puppet of an angry sea
Where life can end so fast - like a shipwreck
I started to relax - my strength left me
I tried in vain to signal my two parents -
'Twas strange that the only thing I thought then
Is that I did not want to die a virgin.

I raged and struggled against Neptune's chains
Dragged beneath the boiling sapphire surf
Heroic George a hero now remains
And in this way still proves a hero's worth.
I - growing weak - almost - felt my last refrain
When father rescued me from a watery death
Both heaving against the roiling turquoise waves
At Narrabeen* my life my father saves.

In this rip, he found a lucky sand bar
We stood on this while the swift current raged
And would have dragged us both into deep water
(The current had just for a moment flagged)
On an incoming wave, we now toward, were
Carried thus to the shore (more swept and dragged)
And lying both exhausted on the sand
Now thanked "the Skies"^ that we had found dry land.





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