Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


See and share Beautiful Nature Photos and amazing photos of interesting places



Dark Death Poems | Death Poems About Dark

These Dark Death poems are examples of Death poems about Dark. These are the best examples of Dark Death poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

12345
Details | Iambic Pentameter |

Three Hundred

Three Hundred

The wraiths were ringing dead wrought bells
while closely passed the shady shapes
of woods in dusk, where red indwells
communion made from ghostly grapes.

He ran amidst the winds and passed
across the side where grapevines grew,
it was her presence that amassed
small leaves and droplets of fog's dew.

Inside the winds' lone strings accord,
his Bell full-face, was dropped along
the streamlets and horizon's board,
untamed his scopes, they don't belong.

The Astral Chords! He knew this debt;
the skies demand and kill and draw,
the darkened paths his thought beget,
rose thorny droplets on his brow.

Persephone shall be his wed,
subsiding dew the mist regales,
the stringing roar that reaches red,
his greatest bride resigns his trails.

Shall be the threading of winds' howls,
her plea arises from the shades,
homecoming queen from astral halls,
he harks the northern swashing blades.

Ablution's her enjoining black
"Enfold me in the rising dawn
enfold your sadness in the dark
with magistral the curtains drawn".

Acute of wounds she heals and mends
the asphalt of the mists awaits
pristine her bridal thorns amends
while passing through the Hades gates.

Three hundred reasons drew the drapes,
three hundred strings of diligence;
The winds regaled the bride's agape,
his celebration to commence.

© 10-14-2013, George Venetopoulos
(Iambic Tetrameter - Epic)

Three Hundred = 300 Kilometers per hour. The final speed a super-bike of 1,000cc engine is able to outreach.


Details | Ode |

Dear Lucifer

I cannot compete with something as painstakingly glorious as you
Envy is but a humbling tumble down a steep, rocky hill
I am crushed in your fits of glory—your screaming for passion
My approaches are absolutely wrong
Therefore my communication is a weak, ransomed victim
Your poison arrow frog skin rubs against my exposed body
I happily accept my fate
For your beauty surpasses the ephemeral pain of the infectious reign
My erroneous, inevitable downfall
I hold you up—I feel the need to keep you tall!
Michael the Archangel did not insult you once, Lucifer
How then will I? 
How can I possibly be higher than you?-
Why would I want to?
I admire your freedom
I simply disregard your macrodomes of ever-worshiped flaw 
If I could allow myself, I would share in your glory
Only to add to it further
But as I am poisoned with the truth
I can only be your grounded pedestal
And though you flee from humility in its wake upon my brow
I realize everyday you are living for the grounded now
And I merely look to the unknown future
A place I dread where you unwillingly hold me up
Bonded in the ground with Death and Hades
You become my pedestal, and the worms my vineyard
My parasitic feet seer your glory
I am ever so sorry
I never wanted this renown

There was a time I do recall
When you overtook me in my sleep
I cried aloud in helpless acceptance
But soon I was forced in a croak of laughter
I felt your bitter poison
I felt pride at last
I thank you for it
I thank you for showing me

What I will never be

Dear Lucifer,
Provoke me no longer to praise your eternal existence
Generations of Evening take a hold of me now
And the fruit must be shared


Details | Rhyme |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found


Details | Heroic Couplets |

Necromancer (The Haunting Continues...)

In the cemetery I walk, so dark it is this night.
 Hoping that the Ghouls won't start to bite.
I feel the tug of the dead, as each grave I pass.
 Thankful this nervous tension won't last.

Armed with my Animation supplies,
 I stare out at all the green glowing eyes.
A chicken for my blood sacrifice,
 Raising the dead, there's always a price.

The salt keeps the dead inside.
 Using the machete our magic, we'll ride.
Salt is for everybody's protection.
 Cold steal seals out any deception.

To prime the earth so the dead will rise,
 cast the blood and create our ties.
Focus my energy and the ground starts to shake.
 Winds whip through the area and the on-lookers quake.

I command all that is at least 3 days dead.
 Just enough time for the soul to move ahead.
Born with this power as a Necromancer,
 When I will my power all the dead have to answer.

I look to Sandra Hudson, who hired me,
 to raise the dead and hear their screams.
I call Illyanna De La Keur from her deep, dark grave.
 Her words are scary so be very, very brave.


For John Loving III's "Haunted Poets Society"


Details | I do not know? |

Pitch Black Sun

Inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's "Annabel Lee"

?????????

       Pitch Black Sun

I stand tall though, weak and weary
Mask my eyes for they are teary
Functioning proper,  but thinking un-clearly
In regards to struggles they don't know

The sun is out,  but it's dark as night
I've long since given up this fight
A dark vessel,  merely reflecting light
To disguise feelings I can't show

Would they think me lost for mad
If I dare share the thoughts I've had
For surely, it may end bad
They'd neglect to understand me

He pens me letters,  passed through time
No poet better skilled at crafting rhyme
To reach, into depth, this heart of mine
In this city,  city near the sea

Did the dark master, somehow know
Of these feelings,  I dare not show
Or from his pens, did they grow 
To reflect his spirit inside of me

Can embers still burn, once turned to ash
Blow through time,  escaping the past, 
To create a love,  a respect to last
Can any of this be? 

As sitting under the darkest sun,  I'm left to wonder
Is he the one, to keep me from going under
For upon his pain,  I often ponder
If I was his Annabel Lee

A love left missed,  a denied last kiss,  oh how broken was he
Sworn to her soul,  unable to control,  the fate of Annabel Lee
Separated by death,  death of love, in their kingdom by the sea
Leaving me to question, my direction, and did Poe pen for me

A bond formed over centuries
Leaving great mystery
Of the truth of history
And what it all could be

So as I stand tall yet weak and weary
Mask my eyes for they are teary
I am suddenly thinking clearly
They shall never know

With a sun as dark as night
Me, merely reflecting light
To keep my sadness out of sight
I speak to my poor Dead Poe
®

9-11-14
Katei - Kathryn Ramirez 

Pt 2 is posted. 


Details | Iambic Pentameter |

Her Soul, the Sea - The Ship

The Ship (Her Soul, the Sea)

Foreshadowing the dusk, appeared immense,
magnanimous the skylines sent the ship,
its blackened sight embossed the thought and sense
of sailors that imagined its long trip.

The ship's black smoke ascended to the skies
from supercilious tall funnels, smog
bestowed its sacrificial offing size
to sovereign Gods that lived inside the fog.

In front of us, the ship's displacement thrilled
approaching thus magnificent the moors;
Her Soul, the Sea, and eulogy that killed,
relentlessly enticed, through dark allures.

The night descended when the ship's steel gaze
examined curious and measured me,
proposing wedlock and a fate of blaze,
my competence, demanding, in the sea.

Across the Straits, young Lady Sadness kissed
with ripping cold my twenty years and eyes,
resembling Her Soul, the Sea, amidst
the Northern winds that howled and life's demise.

© 10-15-2013, G.Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)


Details | Ode |

Nyx

Nyx - Ode -

Strophe:

The shadows know the
scent of clove
as Nyx devolves her
orphic code;
her odes address the
stars above,
inviting so, the
Morpheus' bode.

Her darkness strings
the scenic
stillness,
her laughter waves
inside the ether,
small hours submit
erotic bleakness,
advancing 'mid the
sage and heather.

The creatures glance
- with eyes of amber
beneath the blinking
starry flare,
while Nyx, the
infinite advancer,
inflicts her
thralldom and
affair.

Antistrophe:

The blanching moon,
in ventured glory,
embraced by Erebus
at night,
unfolds her mane of
black graphite,
distributing her
daunting dowry.

She meekly bids to
worlds of blooms,
the mortals on the
breezes' breath,
bestowing grand the
kiss of death,
with fates to weave
the orchard looms.

Epode:

Suggesting darkened
deeds and dismal,
with sovereignty she
guides - abysmal,
the chanted souls to
follow thence,
her clouded callings
consequence.

© G. Venetopoulos,
26-03-2014 - (date
the poem was
revised)
© G. Venetopoulos,
10-03-2012 
(Iambic Ode)
___

Nyx = Night

Paintings of Nyx:
http://tinyurl.com/67gs9u

http://tinyurl.com/ndvfvbw

The story on
Wikipedia:
{
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyx
Nyx ("Night" in
Greek) – Roman (in
Latin): Nox – is the
Greek goddess (or
personification) of
the night. A shadowy
figure, Nyx stood at
or near the
beginning of
creation, and was
the mother of other
personified deities
such as Hypnos
(Sleep) and Thanatos
(Death). Her
appearances are
sparse in surviving
mythology, but
reveal her as a
figure of
exceptional power
and beauty. She is
found in the shadows
of the world and
only ever seen in
glimpses. }


Details | Epic |

"LADY DEATH"

   "LADY  DEATH" ------Chaos!!!

Craving life was all of 'HOPE' desire.
Torturing her into the odyssey of Hells fire.
Ending her in heartbreak by her own insane,
cruel father Matthais.
A demon so obsessed with dark power.
Head demon to all hells devour.

Matthais allowing his beloved 'HOPE' to be burned.
In a hellish death as a witch.
Pleading for her life.
All 'HOPE' is lost,
 in a pit of endless broken bones.
The supernatural appeared in front of 'HOPE'.
'HOPE' complied and renounce to give up humanity.
Tricked by demons who lied.
Manipulated that this would save her sanity.

A power bestowed with a creation so rare.
A Demi Goddess of destruction.
Chaos soon will inflict every hour.
With death in her place, she turns in to,
a cold blooded Diva of Death.

Reliving in the plague of dark ages.
Angels and Demons flow through her blood.
With contradiction of many stages.
Many evil forces out to end her existence.
Betrayed by all she knew.
Now she is locked in a demonic resistance.
Defeating Lucifer herself.
Blading the neck of the prince
Death lusting for power in an epic battle.
Lost forever in the era of judgment.
Revenge she claims on her throne.
Making Lucifer's power her own.
A forever endless graveyard.
Restoring into the blood of her new home.

Making hell tremble, many slay to death's assault.
Death arising to all her faults.
Declaring the lost of 'HOPE'
A mans worst nightmare in the sweetest form.
Over throwing her one time dream.

Obsessed with his Lady'''
 Evil Earnie.
Rides by her side.
A  domino of all killers.
In a blood bath stream.
Killing everyone in his & her path.
Killing for her love, his Lady Death love.

Pondering about her lifeless soul.
"All HOPE is gone!"
all that is left is death.
"Lady Death"
  Lord of hell
On a mission of Mega Death.
To conquer all of earth.
Men killing for her demonic way.
Evil Earnie matching to the depth of her Odyssey.

With the belief .
That behind every good man, (EVIL EARNIE)
is a good women..                  (LADY  DEATH)


((Lady Death is a character in her own CHAOS ))


Details | Ballad |

Disturbed Child

That disturbed child
The teen girl with no friends, 
and is rejected by her loved ones
She feels broken inside,
like theres no other choice
She takes the iron razor, 
she puts it to her arm and hopes the pain will fade,
but in the end it only makes her feel worse
She does this to herself not because she is sad, 
but because she doesn't think any one cares
She thinks 
What if I put this razor to my throat,
and ended my life
Would they care then?
She feels like no one cares 
What she doesn't realize is, 
if she died a river of tears would come,
even faster then the blood would run from her
If she only knew life can be brighter 
If she would only see, 
that she is loved
That disturbed child, 
We miss her
and theres no getting her back
What could we have done
Was there any changing her mind
Only God knows


Details | Narrative |

The Rose

Once bloomed a rose so young and fair
With dark brown eyes and long black hair

Beside her be a tall dark tree
Whose branches stretch to smother thee

Too close beside the shadowy bark
That soon begins to leave its mark

She cries for help, but none shall hear
Her thorns too sharp, who’d dare go near?

To save this rose, who’d risk their life?
With naught to gain but pain and strife

Alone, afraid, she lays to rest
Her heart beats low inside her chest

And with the hour growing near
She sheds her final grieving tear

And so the rose soon falls asunder
Her final day, eternal slumber

She lies beside the old dark tree
The only one who mourns for thee


12345