Last Commented Dark Poetry Poems (2,485)

He flicked his coat tails
and rested
upon the entrails

What was in
is now without
as hooded eyes lowered towards his book

as each paper
so blew within his hand
knowing not
where they may land

The falling tears
the grief beyond
Yet beautiful
a swimming swan

A looming closure became
as he of many
will never tame

courteous and sly
My oh My!

glancing at the tower
all pain all gone

so lucid in the power

Yet he sits
amongst tall trees
unbridled
and free



Shall we sit awhile?

.......b...b

...be...


......bew.....

..b..............

bewa..................

...............bewar............

......b...e.....................w..

...................................r.........

................beware!.............

Don't come down here........

............to dark.............can't see......

...turn back now..............

....no light..............

...............................only darkness........

WARNING!
........................Turn Back Now!

......Don't come down here!
.............................Stay Back!

Only death here.................
..........................
................................only death....

.........nothing here....

.............................nothing!

Stay in the light!

This place......is..

This place is...............hell..

Turn back................!

The rhythm of life
mirrors those famous daffodils
swaying to the tune of the wind.
Bending without breaking.
Needing only the sun and breeze.

Homo sapiens, a different breed.
Forever wanting this and that.
Having through time
developed an overwhelming greed.
Grey no trace of soft yellows.

All will sadly end one day.
Not so the yellow daffodils.
The fields will be full
with their gentle rhythms,
the swaying of golden heads
in the breeze of life.

Do be careful my friend
For the enemy is on the prowl
Ready to snatch,to steal
the treasure that's bestowed.........your banquet meal

Be mindful my dear friend
Of the prescense of the peaceful one
His gentle touch,His whisper
And the sweet sweet scent so richly soaked in puritys aroma

Take heed, take care,
discern.
Choose life not death my friend
For both of them are real

Anger inside is raging ablaze
Sparked from just one simple gaze
Step back my friend or feel the wrath
I can’t always control it’s destined path
A warning is all I can share with you
Now back away until I am through
A moment alone will calm the storm
Back to the patience, quiet and norm

Wild spirits, in a woods
Running like the wind
Blowing steady over
Bare branches howling
Since fallen leaves
Soaked by the rain
Lie on ground, still

Dodging traffic, ghosts
On soaked dirt roads
Blurry night vision
Foggy windshield
Laughing at the sight
Of swerving cars
In driver’s headlights

Screeching loudly, crashing
Tearing light from darkness
Life from death
Blood from my veins
Pouring like droplets
Strange crimson rains
Over and over again

Eludes my heart, freshly planted
Now like a lonely tree
So patient for you
To draw back to me
My earthly light
Almost extinguished
In freshly dug grave

A lonely castaway, is death
On a watery journey
Across time, immortal
Through portals sublime
To a place, confusing
Where beginning, is the end
Not our choosing

He once was a good man
But war turned him sour
Many of his generation drank themselves to death
He chose to go further
To a new hell not just in war
But forever in hell
He found a box
Made of wood and covered in fancy metallic designs
Whoever opened the box would be dragged into hell
Dragged by large metal fish hooks attached to chains
There they would either be tormented for eternity or become a demon
the box saw in this military man a monster
A monster that would become one of the worst nightmares for many
Angels to some
Demons to others
A man with pins all over his face and head
A white head with squares cut by unseen knife wielder
Where each intersection of a cut would have a metallic spike
Pinhead would go down as a memorable monster indeed

Hi!
My name is Ed Gein
I used to live with my momma
But she died
I got so lonely that I felt the need to do some pretty appalling stuff
I killed women and then fashioned their corpses into a number of things
A nipple belt
A chair seat made of human skin
A costume I dressed up in made of women's skin
I would dance around in the moonlight pretending to be a woman
I kept heads in my bedroom hung from the wall
I fed the human meat of these women to neighbors who thought it was deer
I engaged in cannibalism myself
My last victim Bernice Worden had her heart found on my stove
He headless corpse dressed out like a deer
She hung from her feet with a tackle and pulley system
I died in 1984
Many thought I was a nice harmless man
I never dug up any corpses in the cemetary
I just made that up to cover all the murders
I inspired Psycho and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
My hometown is Plainfield, Wisconsin

Lonely nights when I sit and stare, a blank wall and there is nothing there.
Over and over I pray and hope, will tonight be the night, but still I stare.
Silently time marches on, a faint crack of dawn, night’s almost gone.
This night was lost, waste of time, maybe next night, something to act on.

In the night where dreams hold sway, is there hope, I can only pray.
Noises muted, faint sounds of song, somewhere a party, just go away.
My eyeballs ache, there’s pain behind, pressure building, too much to bear.
Yet still I linger refusing to quit, while all around me there is only despair.

Every song sounds the same, tears spilled and memories of loss.
My life is over I now believe, burden I must bear, this is my cross.
Only now I realise, while it’s there you never care, this loss so great.
Tears to wipe to hide the pain, hide the shame while I sit and wait.

I hear a siren in a far off distance, the sound of train, a banshees wail.
Old songs from memories past, bitter sweet recollections my mind assail.
Nightly now I sit and stare, a blank wall and there is nothing there.
Still I pray and I hope, will tonight be the night, to end this nightmare.

There she sat the strong one.
The mere presence of her seemed to fill the whole area.
Soon the others would awaken but for now she had it all.
Time to ponder with no arguing,
Debating or other ideas being inflicted upon her.
But soon they would awake.
No matter how much time that she acquired here.
It was not just hers but theirs to make.
Long ago they had learned to get along.
No matter whom thought who was right or wrong.
All living in this small space.
A miracle a murder had never taken place.
So different, so demanding, with one task in mind.
To see another day come and go.
And hopefully to somehow grow.