Most Liked Dark Poetry Poems (2,488)

The light goes dark,
and there is me,
a twisted creature that I see.
Cold penetrates the warmth of heat,
the drugs they seem to be so sweet.
A figure molds and makes anew,
it tells the host what it must do.
It knows the way of which to go,
the lights go dim here comes the show.
People know from which it came,
this feeling seems to have no name.
Dream and still there is another,
woven in sleeps dark dense cover.

Walking down a neverending hallway
I feel it closing in on me
Someone's behind me
I hear the sound of laughter
I start to run
The walls steadily coming together
Confining me in a prison-like straight jacket of pressure
I collapse and pass out
I wake up surrounded by faces
I feel to scream but i can't
I'm paralyzed in fear

The time has come to lay to rest
The dreams and things that have no meaning
And as the pale dark ashes of their lives wander aimlessly through space and time
I will not mourn
For all things must have an end
The promises the dreams gave me were of false hope
It is the time of my passing and I care not to stay
I beg not for reprieve
I instead accept it nobely as a king
Like a great honor has been bestowed upon me
And so, I bid you farewell as I prepare to transverse the frail line of existence
And Pray you shed no tears
I have reached the clearing at the end of the path
And it is beautiful

Fingers clutched tight
Around math-matical schemes
The alley's shadow grows, as he whispers on by
Slate blackboard too heavy, yet all's been erased.

Cobblestone street where footprints have dried
To a two inch oak door, where the treasure resides
Black beady eyes try to make their way
On numbers and symbols worked on that day.

Candle burning bright, wicks almost used up
Moonlight gets shadowed by passing night clouds
As the window of six disappears from the floor
Black beady eyes bloodshot and sore.

Goblet of wine echoes where it sits
Sounds of the night, small rippled bits
The streets are alive
Black beady eyes can't quit.

Another log on the fire as he paces, head in hands
Perhaps, just one shot, of rum understands
What the paper means, he holds in his hands.
As he tries to collect the thoughts in his head
His beady eyes blacken his mind is in bed.

Sleep came by
Black beady eyes house
Yet, passed over the roof
With not making a sound!

Stone tile floor his feet kept in pace
Fifteen thoughts and another
He knew he just had time to erase
As his scheme seemed too backfire.
Too little too late.

Blew up in his face
For he'd not had the mind
To figure it out
In his corner he sat, and his lip's shouted out!


~Bentlee~

I'm living in a childish game, I'm like a puppet without a name. Soon your gonna pull my strings, then the magic show begins.
Take a seat one and all, see me about to crumble & fall. my hands and feet are on display. Doing at will, at your dismay.
Taunting and probing me, Confusing my mental capacity.
Controlling my every move. Setting bars that I cannot elude.
Trying to conceal & break free. This turmoil is slowly poisining me.
The system try's to break me down, changed my smile to a frown.
Working hard everyday, the stress of life won't let me play.
When will this madness end. Will it be when life ends....

Give me back!
My poetry words,
You are so bad!
To steal my feelings,
I am so sad!
To see this happening,
I am so scared!
Of another dealing.

All hands on deck!
The captain is coming,
Skipper men the ropes!
A sea storm is brewing,
1st mate hard to port!
The winds are changing,
Scumbags say your prayers!
Set a course through the non living.

Life where is the
meaning?
Where is my existence?
Where do i belong?
Where is my place
in the circle of life?
Where shall i find it
and when?
For older i am now
how long must i wait?
Do i figure it out
as death bring me to
her bedside?
How then can i pass
it on to others?
I guess that is why
it is still a secret.

I can not believe
all that i have
been through and
yet no weight has
been lifted yet.
GASP
GRAB
I guess this is
my life for there
is no more for me.
I gasp for my last
breathe as i reach
for your hand but
mine goes limp
and my time on earth
is done.
I bid you a farewell
and say hello to my
father in heaven.
For my time on earth
is done and i have
ran my course.

When we think of dark we think of the color black and blue
Then we see the color of yellow and pink
things start to lighten up a bit.

Sore thoughts critical thinking motions of mind
Flowing with caution only time will tell.
What will tomarro bring as the clock has
stopped.

Friends in low places all over they come
Some stay and some go only the hand will
tell if time is near.

Many colors of crayons in a box take one out
And they spread a new life of new
emotions of time and the clock
has begun to tick again.

The road appeared different today
Perhaps it was the grey dank sky
That bled desolation
That made it look
As if misery had overtaken it

Scattered boxes, riotous revelry mementos
Lay discarded, abandoned by humanity
(Or some may say inhumanity)
And brightly coloured lids, when asked
Mostly replied, “Ham Cheese and Pineapple”

Fresh holes, those pock marked decaying scars
Seeming devoid of any compassion
What scurrying animals had left
In a flurry of desperation, but unknown to them
Would never let them escape their misery

And the trees, as if with wanton need
Had shed their belongings
Retreating, seeking another guise
As if desperation, always looked better
When barren and naked

The road looked different today
As if misery had strolled on by
And left that odour of hopelessness
Maybe I should not have walked that way
But it was my only path