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Metaphor Dark Poems | Metaphor Poems About Dark

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Details | Narrative | |

The Old Dark House

The Old Dark House

This tale of “The Old Dark House” is one that’s replete with a
most horrid sense of pure evil and macabre, and is worth being
retold each year during the deep-dark hours of All Hallows’ Eve
before the chime of midnight, when the thin veil separating the
land of the living and the dead momentarily dissolves, bringing
both worlds together until the break of dawn.

Beware of this house’s mythical and ethereal presence in the
shadow dreams of the innocent, and be forewarned to never
conjure its image in your unconscious mind. If so conjured,
The Old Dark House shall become an unending reality to the
innocent and uninformed, and on All Hallows’ Eve, the evil
“Demons of Hell” shall come for your very soul!  

The Old Dark House is one that is bathed and cursed in utter
hellfire and damnation by Lucifer himself. It’s one that creeps a
chill and frozen reminder into the very frame of its nasty, putrid
structure. It shall guarantee you the worst possible nightmares as
your very soul cries in agony and pleads unrelentingly for mercy!

Your nightmares are, in turn, amplified and born into the very
structure of this house with ivy creeping as you palpably sense
the wretched ice-cold fingers of Hell opening the doors to the
cavernous basement were evil shadows of goblins, ghosts,
ghouls, vampires, and werewolves parade openly from past lives.

Everyone suffering the curse of the damned was captured here
when they visited, becoming prisoners to the darkness of true evil,
far away from the light, goodness, and eternal mercy of Almighty
God Himself.

Six generations of my family actually dwelled beneath the rafters
of The Old Dark House where demonic forces were constantly in
play—as hot sparks burned the tongues of lost souls who cried in
agony, and their world would enter the vortex of darkness whilst
blood-curdling screams could be distinctly heard during the night
on All Hallows’ Eve. Ghostly images would appear out of nowhere
supported by the frightening ferocity of Lucifer who is the true dark
presence and ultimate tempter of mankind!

The horror I felt as a young boy trapped in this existence is truly
unimaginable. The image of The Old Dark House still haunts my
adult consciousness, even today, as I would shudder in the cold
night-sweat of sleep to purge its eternal presence from my mind!

Cruel pictures adorn the hell-hole hall of imagination as a gruesome
and unbelievable power underneath wields its vice-grip of hideous
words, whispering in the coldest of ice without the living being able
to breathe in a cloud of mercy and forgiveness, within an ancient
language of evil and evil-doings that twist the shape of words to
suit one’s human fears and cold shivers!

I still don’t understand the full measure of things being lost in this
dark pit of Hell in The Old Dark House. It’s a place that’s devoid
of human meaning and worth as shrunken heads are disembodied!
I hold on to what remains of a past shame, hovering high in the air
as unclean spirits of a crooked vision-circle wander aimlessly as a
Blind Sheppard leads our lost souls to the depressing Dark Land of
Nowhere and Nothingness!

Every October as the full moon rises high in the dark-sky evening,
a ritual fire is set by a local coven of witches to celebrate the advent
of All Hallows’ Eve. These witches know well the power and evil of
The Old Dark House. Their burnt offerings and black magic spells
echo hauntingly as Hell’s own fury is unearthed, challenging all
things virtuous in mankind’s existence and in God’s world of beauty,
hope, kindness, and light.

These evil images of black magic and witchcraft haunted my sleep
entire. I couldn’t sleep at all before dawn. I constantly sense now
an awakening madness in my soul, as if it comes from hidden graves
yet to be uncovered. Images and bad memories of The Old Dark House
push me now toward the opening of unknown tombs. I can actually
now smell Death’s Sulphur-burnt flesh!

Doors begin to rustle behind me as I hear loud footsteps of a pin
echoing deep in my mind. The echo shatters any illusions I have
of human sanity and forgiveness. I feel the sheer horror and begin
suffocating as the stale air is trapped in each breath I take!  

I sit up now—immediately confused, looking directly at a lonely
and empty Black Void that goes on and on and on—to infinity!

Cell doors in the house basement were always closed tight with
rusted iron links bound by heavy chains. As a poor child alone in
this house with other condemned children, there were nice rooms
upstairs that were always barred and shut to us as we suffered in
the filthy basement below. In Lucifer’s Hell!

I recall now too, in my memory, a gallery of special portraits in
The Old Dark House, which formed a ghastly mosaic of pure evil.
These portraits were of key human disciples of Lucifer who had served
him well through the ages. All of these images were grotesque and evil
when taken as a whole.

What did I learn? Evil is what Evil is! And Evil does what Evil does!

I’m free now from the eternal curse of The Old Dark House. I escaped
this mansion of the macabre as a young man and found my soul path
to Almighty God and stepped into His holy light of forgiveness and
redemption! 

As a very old man now, I sleep and dream a lot. Usually my dreams, 
thank goodness, are pleasant as I draw toward the end of my mortal
existence here on earth.

Yet, despite all the good things in my life now, during October of
each year, as All Hallows’ Eve cometh closer in the deep recesses
of my mind—I remember clearly that the ground floor of The Old
Dark House always had these frigid-cold wind gusts that spoke 
chillingly to one’s very soul. As young kids we would run upstairs
in this evil house to hear the “Demons of the Night” moan and cry!

Old Hob always had a way to speak to all of us as kids in His House!

Anne-Lise Andresen, Liam McDaid, and Gary Bateman
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
September 7, 2016 (Narrative)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

Fool of Infiniti and Queen of Fate

Fool of Infiniti

A wanton bird pecks at the stars
A Jester peers through crystal bars
This prison of love with rainbow hue
Illusion parts to lets you through

On dragon wings forever free
You quest into your dreams to see
Smoke and mirrors and shadow haze
To guide you through an endless maze

Slow motion tear rolls down her cheek
Its only passion that you seek ?
Engulfed in strange duality.
She wonders her reality

Your eyes still mock her with desire
Your kisses light her inner fire
Your touch can melt her to your will
But you will never take your fill

Black widow spider guards your heart
She spun the web, she keeps it taut
It is your only fatal flaw.
A secret, silent metaphor.

And all about her swirl the dreams
The nightmares all with voiceless screams
And in her hand the strangest key
To fit the door of What Will Be ?

And when her eyes search yours again
You take her to the spider den
You spin the dreams she hopes to see
And lock your hearts in mystery.

So enter in to lick the flame
Eternal prisoner of the game
Illusion is false imagery
She whispers your Infinity


The Queen of Fate

The Queen of Fate by the outer Gate
Her carriage to Nowhere, will await
Her cloak is wrapped against the night
Her eyes are wide with peculiar fright

Gray horses eyes turn back in fear
With thunderclaps upon her ear
Blue jagged lightning points the way
Along the path to yesterday

Cold, sullen driver cracks his whip
His crooked smile curls round his lip
His horses leap the cruel abyss
Dark Queen of Fate sees none amiss

Above the mist a gate appears
Who will wipe the Gate-man's tears ?
Gray horses strike and paw the air
Fate Queen ascends the carriage stair

And all about her swirl the dreams
The nightmares all with voiceless screams
And in her hand a wondrous key
To lock Enigma's Mystery

Pass through the gate O Queen of Fate
Another carriage will await
Drawn by Steeds of Promises
Illusion Starts and Finishes

Suzanne Delaney
Iambic Tetrameter
Gothic Theme
For Giorgio's Impress Me Iambic Contest

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

- The Demons Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror -

The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror

This tale of “The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror”
lives on in the mountain village of Gpeth Tor in the outlying 
region of the “Dark Forbidden Forest” known for evil, death,
and lost souls. This tale passeth from generation to generation,
to the present, and still frightens all people who hear its grim
message as it sends an icy-cold chill that stabs the heart of one’s
holy eternal soul!

A young boy who just turned six years heard this tale so told
by both of his parents who shivered with a great palpable fear.
Their story of the Devil’s Demon of the Dark Forbidden Forest
mesmerized this young lad, giving him gruesome nightmares,
whereby the Devil’s Demon whispers cruelly to him in the 
darkest corners of his mind and in his deepest moments of sleep!

The young boy’s recurring nightmares show him running each
night deep into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest while both 
shouting and screaming his desire to see and to serve this foul
Demon of the Wild, while forsaking Almighty God in his thoughts!
This ghastly dream world each night is like morphine to his brain,
as this young boy suffers, feeling the chains of its merciless torment!

But this story of the boy is now 22 years ago as he’s progressed on
to manhood—driven to the very depths of depravity and insanity
as he witnesses nightly in his padded cell the evil actions of both
Ghouls and Ghosts who’d open up the graves of past rotting souls.
This insane young man now sings paeans with a fulsome alacrity
as he celebrates the shrill and haughty cry of the Devil’s Demon!

Does anyone really believe in happy fairy tales when Hell itself
corrupts the mind and spirit of the young and unsuspecting?

Does anyone believe a young fairy princess who kisses a frog
and says that the frog is now a dashing, noble prince?

Does anyone really understand and believe there are real monsters
who roam the maze of one’s mind crying now into a dark abyss,
while Goblins and Ghosts float freely robbing the living of breath?

The Dark Forbidden Forest of this evil lore does indeed exist, and
it lives freely in the dreams of young village children so frightened 
and terrified by the dark-demonic-visage of a bile-black-blooded 
Bogeyman who resurrects himself nightly in their true dreams of a 
sweet innocence in the place where scars are born every waking day,
as the lid of terror is lifted open, spewing legends and tales of the
macabre stealing the very life-force of heartbeats leading to Death! 

The local people of this legend in the village of Gpeth Tor speaketh 
freely of shrunken heads in large glass jars deep in the bowels of the
Forbidden Forest, where the threshold of pain and absolute madness
knows no bounds of moderation, and tortured beings and lost souls
cry out loudly as the Dark One takes his due while the broken bones
of those who remain are crossed—weighted so heavy like an anchor!

Invisible and evil forces at the Devil’s command have taken control
of the Forbidden Forest, where nasty beasts with a rabid blood thirst
for torture live in the very cells of the chained and forgotten souls who 
have lost their way to Almighty God and His Angels in Heaven above.

Grotesque stories still abound to the present time in this century of the
perverse and maledictory nature of this dark forest that borders so close
to the ancient village of Gpeth Tor—of what can happen to those who
dare to speak of the unspeakable, as Specters of the Undead feast upon 
the heartbeats of innocent victims until they are fully consumed, and
their souls are condemned to an unending damnation and agony!

It’s been so many years since I graced my presence again in this ancient
“Village of the Damned.” Mea Culpa! Forgive me! A difficult journey!
I’ve now lost my way into the light and to the holy path to God Himself.

Gpeth Tor and its people live on into this twenty-first century as it is.
The frightful memories and presence of the Forbidden Forest are real,
and are still devouring the very living thoughts and ideals of the young.
Many moons later the sacrilege of this reality still lurks and crawls now
beneath one’s own human flesh as the divine answers to “God’s Truth”
lay, locked far away in the depths of Lucifer’s Kingdom here on Earth!


Gary Bateman, Anne-Lise Andresen, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 20, 2016 (Gary)
September 10, 2016 (Anne-Lise)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative | |

The Demon's Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror

The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror

This tale of “The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror”
lives on in the mountain village of Gpeth Tor in the outlying 
region of the “Dark Forbidden Forest” known for evil, death,
and lost souls. This tale passeth from generation to generation,
to the present, and still frightens all people who hear its grim
message as it sends an icy-cold chill that stabs the heart of one’s
holy eternal soul!

A young boy who just turned six years heard this tale so told
by both of his parents who shivered with a great palpable fear.
Their story of the Devil’s Demon of the Dark Forbidden Forest
mesmerized this young lad, giving him gruesome nightmares,
whereby the Devil’s Demon whispers cruelly to him in the 
darkest corners of his mind and in his deepest moments of sleep!

The young boy’s recurring nightmares show him running each
night deep into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest while both 
shouting and screaming his desire to see and to serve this foul
Demon of the Wild, while forsaking Almighty God in his thoughts!
This ghastly dream world each night is like morphine to his brain,
as this young boy suffers, feeling the chains of its merciless torment!

But this story of the boy is now 22 years ago as he’s progressed on
to manhood—driven to the very depths of depravity and insanity
as he witnesses nightly in his padded cell the evil actions of both
Ghouls and Ghosts who’d open up the graves of past rotting souls.
This insane young man now sings paeans with a fulsome alacrity
as he celebrates the shrill and haughty cry of the Devil’s Demon!

Does anyone really believe in happy fairy tales when Hell itself
corrupts the mind and spirit of the young and unsuspecting?

Does anyone believe a young fairy princess who kisses a frog
and says that the frog is now a dashing, noble prince?

Does anyone really understand and believe there are real monsters
who roam the maze of one’s mind crying now into a dark abyss,
while Goblins and Ghosts float freely robbing the living of breath?

The Dark Forbidden Forest of this evil lore does indeed exist, and
it lives freely in the dreams of young village children so frightened 
and terrified by the dark-demonic-visage of a bile-black-blooded 
Bogeyman who resurrects himself nightly in their true dreams of a 
sweet innocence in the place where scars are born every waking day,
as the lid of terror is lifted open, spewing legends and tales of the
macabre stealing the very life-force of heartbeats leading to Death! 

The local people of this legend in the village of Gpeth Tor speaketh 
freely of shrunken heads in large glass jars deep in the bowels of the
Forbidden Forest, where the threshold of pain and absolute madness
knows no bounds of moderation, and tortured beings and lost souls
cry out loudly as the Dark One takes his due while the broken bones
of those who remain are crossed—weighted so heavy like an anchor!

Invisible and evil forces at the Devil’s command have taken control
of the Forbidden Forest, where nasty beasts with a rabid blood thirst
for torture live in the very cells of the chained and forgotten souls who 
have lost their way to Almighty God and His Angels in Heaven above.

Grotesque stories still abound to the present time in this century of the
perverse and maledictory nature of this dark forest that borders so close
to the ancient village of Gpeth Tor—of what can happen to those who
dare to speak of the unspeakable, as Specters of the Undead feast upon 
the heartbeats of innocent victims until they are fully consumed, and
their souls are condemned to an unending damnation and agony!

It’s been so many years since I graced my presence again in this ancient
“Village of the Damned.” Mea Culpa! Forgive me! A difficult journey!
I’ve now lost my way into the light and to the holy path to God Himself.

Gpeth Tor and its people live on into this twenty-first century as it is.
The frightful memories and presence of the Forbidden Forest are real,
and are still devouring the very living thoughts and ideals of the young.
Many moons later the sacrilege of this reality still lurks and crawls now
beneath one’s own human flesh as the divine answers to “God’s Truth”
lay, locked far away in the depths of Lucifer’s Kingdom here on Earth!

Gary Bateman, Anne-Lise Andresen, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 20, 2016 (Narrative)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Haunted

A hole in the head shooting pain trembles
nightshades coldly down the spine
a soul lost in the land of the living
carried away in darkness
flying inside dark clouds holding just a dream

Distant thunder roars lightening splitting cracks
sure as the crow flies crawling opens Hell's gates
dark jewels of the night
charred remains churning in a cauldron
boiling goodness tears of thoughts

Piercing screams spawning nightmares
holding a promise once made
walking in a valley amongst the dead
shadows now smile hearing animals scream
as the moon plays silver dancing light

Dreams snatched away from reality
the crow calls echoes in silence
victims of this world howling over and back
tragedy cries in their pain and suffering
eyes seeking light
whispers through the branches
a heather bleat creature of the night calls

Haunted by humans chained to the earth
awaiting shadows and sunsets 
a cursed banshee wails supernatural screams 
from everywhere and nowhere

Mind numbing winds passing through
a white silhouette shredded shroud
around a heart entombed
in agonies' twilight shades clouds darken
storms brewed stirring specters chase the wind

Cold rains become lost tears
the willow weeps in eternal sorrows
a lament for the dead
as the silver crescent moon smiles goodbye

Blends in clear as day after sunrise
forgotten in a valley of unrest
death bell's toll out from the past
onyx feathered crows call painful cries

Forever seeking heaven's gate now sealed
that promised choice was lost ages ago
only burning Hell fires
or cold earthworms await




Written by: Liam McDaid & Kelly Deschler

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain | |

Animal of the Night

The animal of the night has an evil courage as its defense,
And with simple lies it now catches the filthy beast easily,
And can now stand and bask in God’s purest of sunshine,
Whilst valor and glory speak all power to one’s destiny!

Darkness doth now pervade and drinks slowly from that
“Chalice of the Faithless Heathen” who hides among the
Soulless Ones who are consumed by their hateful actions,
And spit thoughtlessly at your good will and human pride!

Hades’ very own dark demons tilt their evil night shades
While justifying the hurt and depravity of an “Ugly Brute”;
A truly lost soul without any mercy, blind—as “He” throws
Freely a nasty spiteful spirit on your earthly fire of reality!

Hence, Hades’ mark and mask of utter darkness and terror
Descend now into the very conscience of your Spirit World;
Burning hot with the force of “The Furies” seeking revenge:
Tisiphone, Megaera, and Alecto all appear sans Merci now!

As their eternal gorgonesque spirits creep upon you furtively,
Your once handsome visage turns into a sad and horrid portrait
Of an old animal soul in the mirror never to see the Light again,
As clouds darkly shade your horizon and fate in Hades’ name!

In this eternal land of darkness, the dead do not suffer this fate
So easily, and cast not without honor in their chains the notion
That fear itself, vice destiny, cries out now for your forgiveness,
As One-Eyed Beggars seek and see the basic good within you!

Each day now fades into its own doom, into a dark mist of evil,
And hides carefully inside a “Mountain of Consciousness” where
Your ethereal spirit knows who you really are—as black snakes
slither slowly and silently toward your spirit-mirrored reflection!

You—that “Animal of the Night,” wear now your deceptive mask;
The reality of who and what you really are makes my skin crawl!
You can never return from this darkest “Pit of Hell” my old friend,
For thy animal-human spirit is doomed to all this darkness forever!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – November 22, 2015 
(Narrative Quatrain)

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric | |

The Light Shall Overcome The Night

When you find yourself alone in the shadows
Void of peace and tricked by deceit,
Know that light flushes out the dark
And there's a light deep within your heart

If you find yourself in a crowd blind of clear sights,
Remove yourself from their company, and find some light

It will always be darkest before dawn
So prepare yourself a light
Because darkness will surely come

For shadow shrouds over everyone and everything,
Never are you alone when the night comes to cling

We all share the same sun and the same moon
But with life comes fire, let us use it to banish the present gloom

Together, when we all contribute to the fire
We can create warmth and huddle around the campfire
Until this present darkness expires

Some may be lost within the pitch black, and absent day
Some may even run wild in search of prey 

But know this..
Within your heart can start a spark,
The smallest fire can give birth to soaring flames
So bright you might even forget the darkness even came

The light shall overcome the night, breaching through the skies
So hold fast to your light, whatever it may be
A candle, a torch, a lantern, or even the full moon shining across the seas

GOD never gives us more than we can handle
So hold strong to your BLAZING candles

Copyright © Justin Worthy | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Alliteration | |

THE LAST DAYS

The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
 
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
 
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
 
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
 
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.

Copyright © stephanie hanvey | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

A Soul Awakened

She is the muse to her own sorrow; She is the digger of her grave. She is the painter of her ocean view and every fatal wave. She is the shadow of her Father; She is the darkness in your sight. She is the night without the stars surrounding pale moonlight. She is the music with no words; She is sweet love without the reason. She is your dreamer with submission cold by warmth with every season. She is your pet with cold intentions; She is your baby scared and shaken. She is the bold and pure- the lost and found, She is a soul awakened.

Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Money

Money money, ringing in your tills,
Calling us to worship,
The hundred dollar bills.
Bend our knees in wonder,
Bow our heads in awe,
At the power of the liar,
Who now controls us all.
From the darkest deep caverns,
To the stars in the sky,
From the infinite universe,
To the strangers passing by.

From your inner most conviction,
To your laughing in the night,
From everything you 're  seeing,
To everything out of sight.

The new God has risen,
To claim the holy throne,
The one that we have emptied,
Our hearts all cold as stone.

The throne that we have emptied,
We killed the rightful king,
Sold his crown an sceptre,
Pawned his sacred  ring.

Raised his bleeding body,
Up on that bloody hill,
The silent lamb still bleeding,
As the money fills your tills.

Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

White wolf, I bleed for you

Once upon a time
Distant memories 
Dawning of morning crystals
Glittering reminder of starlight tears
 
In sunbeam's brilliance
Lighting jewels shine
Songbirds break into chorus
The smallest fragment of a breeze alerts
 
The senses whistling
Melodies explode
Through the branches leaves lament
Observing nature's space hold in colors
 
Fruit of tenderness
Mellow your sunshine
Blossoms love supreme touching
Fingers raise deep golden feelings yearning
 
Addresses one's heart
Lonely dust remains
Breathing breathless light explores
In darkness echoes bounce off deep caverns
 
Cold howling shivers
Devouring warm blood
Into the bones whistling ice
Winds voice of the lost souls' eyes turn bright green
 
As the spirit leaves
Dark moldy shadows
Light of moon sources cravings
Beauties kiss eclipses rose bleeds scarlet
 
Immortal heartbeats
Life stops ticking bang
Seduced black velvet pleasure
Sinking fangs into the succumbing heart
 
Drum beats slow echo
Fallen unchained truths
Slithering lizards crawling
Underneath the skin a beastly vision
 
Storm roars through timbers
Translucent blood slime
Flowing toxic energy
Mutating hollers screech into wolf moon
 
Scalding hot flames breathe
When red embers burn
Into the lustful ashes
Born inside scarred remains breathing wounds
 
An itch that scratches
Onto the mindset
Greenish cornea expands
Opening curtains in a split second
 
Haunting prey on light
Affliction of need
Rasping rattle in the throat
Death yowls airless scream without sun visions


A Collaborated Poem with Liam McDaid and Angeline Lim

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

CAPTCHA's Cruelty

HELP

The CAPTCHA took me by surprise tonight
Letters became ghouls in my mind’s eye
I listed them—
Noted them; words...begging, crying out for me

STAY

CAPTCHA was merely mocked
By millions of viewers on keyboards
I imagined all—
Tears began to fall

LOST

How may I help you, CAPTCHA?
Are you merely what they say?
Is there more—
Tell me, I pray

AAND

You bewilder my senses with your emptiness
The computer became my way to you
But all I could do—
Was imitate

CRYY 

I began to imagine someone stuck in CAPTCHA
A place where they harbored the weak
They took what they pleased—
Allowed them to speak

NNOW

Today it was happening and evermore
There was a reason I came to know
And now—
I want to know more

FOLL

I swallowed air and typed in the words
Feeling worthless and absurd
I began to believe—
There was more to this irrational dream

XOW3

The screen went black and then I was sure
I couldn’t doubt it anymore
The CAPTCHA wanted me—
The letters suddenly blurred and unseen

CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Let them go
CAPTCHA 
CAPTCHA
Full of woe
CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Take me now
CAPTCHA 
CAPTCHA
Tell me how to
CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Set them free
CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Knowing is free

Knowing is free

MMEE

For years I have copied your codes
Knowing you are there
Me—it’s me
Crying in the dark pit of despair

AAND

Though empty your words are to me
They are all I hear
All I fear—
In four letters on this electric trap

XXBX

What am I to do?
To follow would weary my soul
To save—
Would take its toll

FREE

What is this foreign word my dear?
Oh, how can you cut and paste it in my mind so clear?
Free—and then? 
Close your eyes and count to ten

The victims of the CAPTCHA remain a mystery to us all
Yet still we stare at the codes and merely imitate them
We are zombies staring our lives away
Trapped in CAPTCHA’s claws
Sad, deprived. . .
CAPTURED

I speak your language to stop this cruelty:

THEE 2TRUE TH78 IS9X BEF4 HOUR VERY EYES

Though we choose not to see
We choose not to fight
We choose only to IMITATE
We merely copy and paste

CRYY
CRYY
CRYY

GOOD
BAYE
BAYE
BAYE 






Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Letters On My Arm

you won’t listen to me, so i write to you on my arms. 
this one says i needed you and you weren’t there. 
this one says i’m bleeding but you don’t care. 
i wrote you this one out of despair, 
seemed like you always had to be at some other somewhere,
and it hurts, because it’s me you’re dismissin’, 
with no time to listen, just need your attention, 
it’s your touch i’m missin’, look me in my eye,
i know you see my letters, so why don’t i get a reply?
i guess it’s worth it just to try, 
to get you to notice me just one more time, 
write you just one last line, 
but i’m runnin’ out of time ‘cause i’m runnin’ out of ink, 
needin’ more time to think, 
but i don’t have it, so i sign my last letter and address it to you,
i hope this one gets through

Copyright © Erin Evans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

The Dark Artist

Death,
A fate foretold 
Since the beginning of time

Master of time,
Misunderstood, 
And feared by many. 
Some say your power is a curse
Some a blessing

Emancipator of souls,
Bestow freedom 
On my poor soul.
Trapped in this prison of torture
Called a body, 
Which places limits on my true potential

I understand you, 
Hiding behind broken hearts
Are benevolent intentions, 
A noble purpose

Bringer of peace, 
You give rest 
to those tired.
You free those soldiers
Trapped in a game of kings

A dark artist. 
I see the beauty in your work.
With your scythe
You paint a masterpiece,
With your scythe 
You write a magnificent tragedy.
You are the perfect ending
To our tragic story

Copyright © Andres Rocha | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? | |

Lacrimosa

He goes by the name of Lacrimosa
He is the plain picture of a man
Those who don’t know him see him as a monster
But you and I know better that he is a broken friend
His smile drips of sorrow
His walk is that of a footless ghost
And should you accept his outstretched hand
And succumb to the adoring nature of his gaze
He will lead you away to a dreary place
That he calls home
And the monster will sing sweet nothings to you
And hold you safely in his arms
And though the smile on his orchid face may weep for you
Do not be ungrateful, as it is for you
You can shudder and shake and claw to get away
But you need him as much as he needs you
This puppet man who hangs from a single string
Neck crooked and marbled and hanging to the side
Will frighten and disturb those who can’t see his face
But he will protect you from the ones who claim to love you dear
He’ll hold you close and wherever you go
He’ll be there by your side, his cold hand grasping your own
He’ll be everything you need so you’ll never be alone
He’ll share with you his tears and guilt and blame
And for these gifts he asks nothing in return
But your companionship and smile for only a small time
He knows you cannot stay forever by his side
So when you’re ready to say goodbye
He’ll let you go
And he’ll insist that you keep his gifts
But in time you may throw them away 
And turn your back on the weeping thing
Who gave all he had in your time of need
And let his crying fade away
But don’t look back or you’ll see him there
Extending his hand, begging to hold you in his arms once more
And should you choose to return to him
He will always welcome you
And make a place for you by his side
And one day you may decide
To snuff out the man on a string
To throw the gifts he gave back in his blotched, orchid face
And run far far away
So that never again will you see his smile so grayed
Or feel the icy sting of his clammy embrace
Never again will you sigh in the arms of a love once held dearer
Now burdened whenever they look in the mirror
With the image of what they at one time feared
Of a sad smile painted on the picture of a man
Neck crooked and marbled and hung by a string
Dangling a smile loose to the side
Tears scarring his cheeks
His arms open wide
A monster posing as a broken friend
Who goes by the name of Lacrimosa 

Copyright © Bailie Tilton | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? | |

The Warrior

The Warrior

My pencil is my sword
My eraser is my shield
And when I go to war
My paper is my battlefield 
When life is to much
This is how I express the way I feel
And so I write such words
As murder, stab, kill
When people read these words
Misunderstanding they think I’m insane
But this is just how I vent
All my anger, frustration and pain
People that don’t know me
Think I look like a bad man
The people that say they do know me
Think I live the life of a madman
All of these things
Circling in my head
Sometimes I have to wonder
Would I be better off dead
I used to be a somebody
And my reputation would reflect
That I used to be a person
To look up to and respect
But now you can see
By the trembling in my hands
That all I am these days
Is a tired, broken man

Copyright © Michael Rowley | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Lonely moon

Under that pale moon we fell,
deep beneath it's deceitful spell
the pallid beacon drew two moths,
each cut from very different cloths
sharing moonlight's loneliness, 
our curse; our void; our emptiness

Under that pale moon, truth died
two lonely hearts could not abide
their fate, to burn, perhaps to freeze
those moments in the moonlight seized
on fragile wings, on furtive flights
together in that palest light
  
We fluttered so, so far away,
each leading other's hearts astray
to other moons and other's pain
and other lies were told again
for love, forlorn, for sanity,
for isolation or, for vanity

Two hollow hearts beneath that moon,
where hollow feelings end so soon
the vacuum of an empty soul's
a cold, cold place, a black, black hole
where fidelity and pride may die,
underneath a moonlit sky

Copyright © David Brown | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia

Copyright © Laura Hamilton | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

Light In Dark

You twisted and diseased creature 
Deceitiful little lies your best feature
Slithering around like a snake 
From my fantasy coma I awake
Into a much worse tragedy 
Into a worse and cruel reality 
Where you feel so at home
You decay my soul to the tone
Of your devil delivering laughter 
Pushing my peace and mind farther 
Into darkness where you dwell
My remaining light your Hell 
I'm here to bring an end to your crooked ways
Forced to change wherever your demon lays
I won't stop until I bring you back to life
No longer in darkness full of delightful blithe
In the eyes of the sun shining up on you 
My words in the end will prove all too true
This promise I make to you right now
See light in the dark I will show you how
Just open your pointed ears to me
A brighter world soon you will see

Copyright © Michael Scribner | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme royal | |

Alone In The Dark

I opened my eyes,under. 
A bleak atmosphere-
deserted I beheld.
Sinuous channels flowing.
Whimpering           
Sounds escaped,
As I walked on vast layer 
Of permafrost.
Beyond the horizon,the 
World lay bare.
With my heart in my 
Hand,I passed thru 
Argyle And Hellas,amid 
eerie Sounds echoing as 
dust
Storms circled,forming 
Shadowy figures.
Storms etching
The terrain,light   
Coloured dust particles
Created shifting light
And dark patterns.
How came I into this 
Voiceless world?
Three thousand miles, 
Across is chasm;beneath 
Lay the throne of Hades
I thought.
Drawing near,I jolted
As I heard a voice.
In the ship, this voice
Echoed in my ears-
"Welcome to earth!"

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

Silver Ships

Written May 31, 2013


The sun does rise
Over silver ships sailing in the sky
Rain on down on our parade
In a concrete jungle
The kids come out to play
Masked by this dreadful masquerade

A cosmic dance where stars collide
The kids and parents run to hide
Shelter from the enemy above
Who light up the sky with lightning bugs

The land is dark and the sky is black
Mothers pray the birds will not come back
Be it by barren land or vicious sea
Lord just hear our plea

The sun does rise
Over silver ships sailing in the sky
Rain on down on our parade
In a concrete jungle
The kids come out to play
Masked by this dreadful masquerade

Copyright © Brandon Carter | Year Posted 2013

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Dark Ice

Shadows and murky darkness deep
Describe the depths of lonely hearts
That lie in wait and icy chill
For fiery love to burst in flames;
That empty chests may be refilled
And taste sweet love again!

Copyright © Tara Andre | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Help Me

HELP ME

When we fight 
I want to run away
But there’s nowhere to go
But down, down, down

Your vicious tongue lashes thru my heart
As you beat me with your soul
And I want to run away 
So far from you and this town, town, town

If I could just tell someone 
I’m just a piece of trash
Would they help me or am I just all alone?
Metal and glass crash. 

I never thought I could hate someone 
Until I met your sadness
Evil never felt so bad. 
You’re driving me too madness

Running, running away from you 
To nowhere lasting
Screaming and nobody hears me 
As my blood pours fasting 

Please save me from this ilk. 
I’m too weak to drink my milk
The time has come and gone my friend
I fear the near is coming to an end…help

Leah
1/30/2013

Copyright © Leah Chesser | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

My Hiding Place

I hide here and there,
In a place that snares,
Sometimes full of my blares,
Full of ensnared traps...

I hide here and there,
In a place with many affairs,
Where my enemies are bare,
Where I can make them flee and hare...

I hide here and there,
In a place that only friendship knows,
A place located in the air,
A place below on earth,
Where no plow can cut its soil...

I hide here and there,
In a place with vast plains,
A place with deep and misty forests,
A place with an unreachable sky,
A place where flowers might bloom...

I hide here and there,
In a place where I can hide in my cloak,
A place where I breathe silently,
A place where I contemplate nature,
Where humidity longly persists,
In a place where I scream and no one listens...

I hide and there,
In a place where unwanted can get afflicted,
A place of bright darkness,
A place of dark lights,
Where nothing owns me...

I hide here and there,
In a place where my biggest wishes are spared,
A place where blood won't be splashed,
A place where tears might be shed,
A place where time and space are fair,
A place with some mare surfaces,
Where fear might be gone...

In a place where all sins might be forgiven,
A place where my instinct is tamed,
A place where my mind is thoughtful but reserved,
A place where my heart is controlled,
The place where my deepest secrets are held,
The place where I am the seer,
The place where my soul will forever reign,
The place I can call a hiding place...

Copyright © Ruben A. Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

Solipsist

Let the Deicide commence.

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.

I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
your failure!

I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
 
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways

Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own  personal reality 



Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

The Twilight Moor

Gazing out upon dusky barren moor,
Where gray grass grasps the air
Finding no purchase but sad allure
Straight stalks elapse their endless despair.

Teased by tales of golden reach
Tricked by gales, whose song they preach.

Redtail’s velvet wings breach the sky,
Maroon lips who kiss the grass
Stirring the song, its desperate sigh
Catching the words, her beak of crystal glass

Behind her, midnight shadow draws
Fells her beauty with unseen charcoal paws

Scarlet tears dampen the earth below
Nurture the roots held by dusty truth
Finally, the wind, gray grass’ will bestow
The hawk once, now the fountain of youth.

Litany of silence reigns in dusky glare,
Each blade bowed in mournful prayer.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Blank verse | |

The Eye

The eye,a sign the 
unwise can't comprehend
  Forged from the world's 
origin,an 
illumination in darkened 
minds,for the 
enlightened ones like 
Leonardo da Vinci,Isaac 
Newton,John Milton....etc.
   The eye is a tree 
with many branches like 
Priory of Scion,Knight 
templars,I.O.G.T,United 
Nations,Masonic 
Lodge,Music industry, 
Politics,global economy, 
etc 
stretching beyond 
human imaginations-felt 
in all corners of earth.
  The world is clothed 
through wisdom from 
above.
   The eye,all seeing 
sign,an invincible 
emblem of power and 
riches to the lion hearted 
and loyal souls.
A seat of influence and 
fame.
  Creating the social order 
through men of power....
  Some see it as a 
curse,others a blessing.
  I feel it,the great eye is 
everywhere watching 
you!

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse | |

Whispering Night

In a strange 
environment under gross 
darkness and whispering 
night,I found myself with 
a companion.
 We walked an endless 
journey across the 
woods..eerie sounds we 
heard,a crack! then the 
undead resurrecting from 
marshes,we ran seeking 
for cover.
  These creatures howled 
as they drew near with 
blood dripped 
mouths,my fear 
deepened,I called out to 
my friend a flesh eater he 
became.
  Under the whispering 
night I stood alone, 
seemed the world stood 
still,as these monsters 
encircled me,I closed my 
eyes wishing I was not 
born.
   Suddenly,a bright light 
shone,dispersed 
darkness,repelled these 
zombies-then eerie noises 
ceased, and the world 
revolved once again. 
  A knock,I realized I 
drifted to sleep as my 
companion entered my 
car.
  We zoomed off towards 
the horizon under the 
bright sky.


Name:ifeanyi B. 
Ekechukwu.
Date:24/10/2013

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

I Don't Care

I Don't Care...


I don't care,
if you're battered black and blue,

I don't care,
just as long as I can drink and screw.



I don't care,
if you've lost your damn job,

I don't care,
you're just a kernel off the cob.



I don't care,
when I see you begging in the street,

I don't care,
I get to suckle on capitalism's raw teat.



I don't care,
about the elderly, the poor, or the weak,

I don't care,
if the earth will be inherited by the meek.



I don't care,
if the climate is warming, I'm so much cooler,

I don't care,
in my penthouse I'm the boss, the only ruler.



I don't care,
for those rolling for scraps in the muck,

I don't care,

I really don't care, cos' I don't give a f**k



inspired by Bob Geldof's "The Great Song of Indifference"

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013