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Best Dark Poems

Below are the all-time best Dark poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of dark poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Don't stop! The most popular and best Dark poems are below this new poems list.

Dark Place by Miller, Nicole
Lady of the Dark Side of the Moon by Metz, Elly
Dark Secret by Anderson, Meg
COLD TOWER DARK : PD Contest by Smith, Bev
Faces in the dark by Gould, Oliver
dark gravity by mmmmmm, Lowercase
No Dark Invitation by Coyne, William
Dancing in the dark without music pondering the questions in my head by mystery , lone wolf
I Want The Dark Gift From Your Veins by Molasar, Roderick
In the Dark Night Sky by Bateman, Gary

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The Best Dark Poems

Details | Dark Poem | |

Alice Sweet Alice

      ~Alice Sweet Alice~

        *Like Sisters*
   Everyday -- Holding Hands 
Sunday Dress -- Pink Ribbons
         *Alice And I*

How can they say she did not exist?
This Sweet Girl I Named Alice

The way she looks at me
-Her eyes tender green
A body figure I can't describe
Together we played hide and seek
We swung in ways no one could see
This girl with pretty red curls
Who enjoys the sound of pouring rain.

Together we slept under the same breeze 
We carved our names on the same tree
Side by Side it Read Alice & I!
She whispered the day I fell off my bike
Alice Sweet Alice loves the way I look in red!

Every day I face the mirror
Alice puts her left hand on my right
We share the same identical scars,
Under the right and left palm.

The way she held my hand
Healed the scrapes in every fall
Beating from the bullies, she screams!
Again, Alice, whispers--- "Kill Them All!"
No one ever said a word,
When she stood by my side
Alice knew me in ways no one else did
She knew my eyes -When they cried!

Now I can't sleep,
Since, Alice has fallen back into the abyss
Forever conscious in a self-hug
--- this is no dream, it is real!

The rage inside, burns.
It took place the day she left!
Burning curtains 
Empty mirrors
This Girl Named Alice spoke of darkness,
then disappeared 

When I hear the sound of pouring rain
I stare at the shadows on the wall
Nothing feels the same,
I allow myself to soak in a darkness where it began.

My hair of red is not the same
These cuts are all that remain
The only clue in which Alice, was here!
Holding on to stainless blade, I sleep

Please call my name!
Why do they whisper?
Why are they saying she never held a breath?
I know she is real, she's exist
Why else would I let her cut my wrist?

This Sweet Girl 
Finally, visits again ---
But, who is to believe?
For everyone says 
Alice lives inside my head.


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

More great poems below...

Details | Dark Poem | |

Silent Page

Silent Heart

Sad, as it maybe, I had to break my OWN heart, 
Too many nights, I sat there all torn apart
A dream girl, 
Sitting under its own corrupted auspices sky 
You the poet, in disguise
Telling white lies about, your love for me
Saying I'm a born from the sky....
A match, a queen, your muse, your everything
I'm no good, I admit this once more, 
Your advice, I forever adorn 

It's time to follow the crying crows and praise what is left
Afraid to listen my rhymes weren't cutting it, 
I release it all!
Your smiles, words, and worn out shoulders
I walked away
I acted on
Without a word, in a fetal stage I awake
Tonight you carry a tune for others
A story of a man who stole my soul of sins
A poet, I long forevermore
Always, you will own the only sound that still beats inside
To live alone, in silence, asleep in my own world
I had to let go, 
-Of him, whose name I whisper in darkness
The only thing that remains is the echoes of pouring rain

Too many reasons, writer's block, took full moon
You are a poet, from another lifetime, 
Down in Mandalay, I can no longer ask you to stay
Reading everything about my life, silent and old
Alliterating poems, greeting every dark shadow, normally yours
Many nights I waited, long for the moment of my OWN return
Instead, I found myself alone
Trying to dust off yesterday's verse, yesterday's dirt
Cobweb remains on my page
My pen now sits like a twig
No motion, since the day I decided I am not worthy of the wait
You the poet, who walks my way
I pressured less of me every day
Like Aspen, a forever winter cold! 
Isolated to the world
In your eyes, you wonder why, 
I trace the white smoke standing in your place?

To savor your words, once more 
It's too soon to breathe again. 

I hope you understand, 
How can I continue to love when I don't even love myself?


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Dark Poem | |


Dark Knight-tress 

This gown I feel nothing
Silk less feelings
The odor of intimate apparel lessens 
Vanity fare from any sun
Warrior of beauty
Where have you gone?
A fortress of gloom
Not even death wants in
Black nail tips
Brownish plum lips

I close my eyes 
I see them all
The Shadows
Climbing over my soul
The darken deepens 
The stars dim my view
Irremovable makeup
Land becomes an enemy
I become
The Dark Knight-tress
Scolding my next victim


Copyright © SKAT A

Details | Dark Poem | |

Sombre November rain

It won't stop raining dismal, forlorn murky skies above similar to a depressed painter's palette bring torrent outbursts becoming heavier and heavier descending louder and louder drowning me in a deluge of emotions soaking the sanity from my drenched soul Sombre November rain is always different colder and sinister like a virus rapidly spreading poisoning my body with intense anxiety battering me like a hail of bullets in the line of fire Twilight is swallowed by blackness briskly stars illuminate, as the moon glows but nature continues to immerse me bathing like a forced baptism How I long for a glimpse of the sun to shelter but there is no sign of a rainbow any time soon The Silent One 17 November 2015

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Dark Poem | |

I Wore Your Skin

~I wore your skin~

Brother, I wore your skin last night
Nothing but friction, blood -dry ink
Announcing a crush "Silence by the Sky!"
Integrity denied, endangered enemy

Brother, I wore your skin last night, swollen ankles
  imagery galore, vomit on the lavatory floor
A clown bleeding red, feeding lies to those he rapes
Blades of need, captain catamite chasing a pup
Who can't resist the heat, when fenced
Brother, I wore your skin last night,
White, green and tight, devouring the light 
Mitten wool on your bottom draw
Lipstick waiting to kiss immediate sin
In search of keeping things close to kin
Brother I wore and tore your skin right off
Gross in every demonic way, 
Acrobats all over the home
Docile immunity, lurking with a bomb threat 

Sister, I wore your skin last night
Vanity of nothingness nutted blasphemy
Evil lurking, wanting to undress thee
Comparing notes, breaking bad company

Sister, I wore your skin last night, swollen lips
  scumbag hag, with nowhere to go
Immortal lies weaken by love
Revealing nothing more than her true self
A wraith with no heart, no goal
Sister, I wore your skin last night
Repeating, bleeding, nail biting
Greasy and powerful, needy and greedy
Aching and whining for not placing
Her head lower than shame holding a high
Sister I wore and swore to never put on your skin again
The nasty feeling, of pretending loyalty, is passion
To hate all those who don't fit your skin
A vulture preying sending encrypted messages

By: PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Dark Poem | |

Dead Men Do Tell Tales

Dead Men Do Tell Tales

 I saw, the rot of sad, deep selfish desires,
 burning endlessly in clever fires
 Piles of cash a tall mountain high
 stolen by those that cleverly steal and lie
 six lying days every week , 
 while they race into church pretending 
 to be ever so mild and meek

 The preacher crying all to give so much more
 while he lives in a mansion with a golden door
 drunks living with no other life
 have sacrificed family and wife
 naked women on the the street,
 selling their pride and body like meat
 hustlers getting rich selling poisonous dope
 as they hang themselves with an evil rope

 I looked for solace and found there was none
 just endless cowards crying on the run
 A world teaching wrong is so damn right
 blind monkeys never seeing the light
 dancing in fruitless trees,
 tree-rats eating with relish their rotting cheese

 Looking for Spring to bring life anew
 I too am blind and without a damn clue
 a fool holding onto a false hope
 on a tight leash and even shorter rope

 Where is the miracle we each think can come
 we see it shining there for some
 A treasure glaring in the glimmering Sun
 gifted not stolen by guile and a gun
 So I finally turned to family for relief
 ease my Soul, winter in my long lost belief
 that Life must give us all a saving line
 other than more food when we sit to dine

R.J. Lindley
Nov 9th, 1984

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Dark Poem | |


~It's Out There~

Green colored field 
A flower without the sun 
Wilts from distrust 
now washed away 
by the man storm


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Dark Poem | |


Witching hour is upon us Dusky clouds, falling, swirling Obscuring the crescent moon Skeleton fingered branches Beckoning me in the wind As I creep past the grave stones To my final resting place Jan Allison 10th November 2014 Contest: Silhouette of a Heptagonet Sponsor: Nette Onclaud ~awarded 5th place~ Syllable Counter Used - 'How Many Syllables' 7,7,7,7,7,7,7

Copyright © JAN ALLISON

Details | Dark Poem | |


JAN ALLISON Pierced by shards of shattered glass Deeper and deeper you stab me With lies and venomous words Dissecting my heart piece by piece Crushed like the petals of a withered rose I’m dying … Scarlet blood seeps into my very soul Drip Drip Drip Into pieces and a bloody mess I scarified secrets; Secrets you tore and tore, Gracing a fake friendship, Trust tossed like a sweaty towel Now karma a poisonous snake You plea ... To be on death row, decomposing Dripping into the night -- Silently fading and fading Stung by my viper lips, smiling grinning laughing Until you are no more A Poet Destroyer Collaboration Collaboration Celebration Contest 7th August 2015

Copyright © JAN ALLISON

Details | Dark Poem | |

Secret of the Mortician

The Secret of the Mortician

Dead, but I got eyes
Prepares my body at the morgue
Opens the chest
Drains the blood from its nudity
Admires my body before it decays

After The process of embalming
His hands run all over
I'm still dead
He's satisfied

The next day 
Writes an outstanding obituary 
I sit on display


Copyright © SKAT A

Details | Dark Poem | |

Stalking The Stalker: Peter Pan Can

Captain Hook, you shine your Swastika 
with the schizophrenic shadows
that followed you to the dimly-lit places 

where you attempt to be a Fuhrer, 
Herr Doktor und the Gestapo 
all wrapped into one -- 
a one-trick-pony with three phony faces.

The shadows hiss into your ear,
"He is Peter. He is also Peter. She too, is Peter.
They are all Peter!"

Just as the foolish invoke the Devil with repetition,
I will grant your wish, by being Peter The Pan;
your Precious obsession.

I am clad in skeleton leaves
and the flowing sap of Skull-Cap trees.

Wendy is an inverted double-u:
M stands for the Murderously silent swagger
of Neverland's Cloak and Dagger.

Stalker-Troll, you are emboldened 
behind the illusory safety of microchips
and a screen that brightly glows.

Put your false bravado where your hook clacks the keys,
because I play for keeps, 
yet know enough to tip the chimney-sweeps.

And the Lost Boys are in tow.
The system lost sight of us
after we aced our exams on William Golding --
yes, Piggy, boys will

The Lost Boys are Canis Lupus:
Peter and his Wolves
howling at their pearled Goddess.

Nibs, Slightly, Curly, and The Twins
are tracking your scent to under the bridge
where you dine and slumber with Gluttony's swine.

Ignorance, you invoked Pan's gift-bearing countenance
with your fattened, unsmiling jowls,

so here I come clad in skeleton leaves
and the flowing sap of Skull-Cap trees.

My shadow slinks over there,
but I am hiding over here,
patiently waiting to release you
from the sickness whispering in your ear.

*This is a fictional stab at some Poésie-Noir 
for the sake of sentimentality and your entertainment.
Please, enjoy, have a slice.

February 19th, 2014


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Dark Poem | |

Window to my soul

My mind is in a state of dilapidation locked in conflict with its obsession to prevent the exposure of emotions disillusioned by the phobia of tenacity Look deep through the windows of my soul and you will see chains fastened to my heart You only see the coruscation of my smile not the wounds inflicted deep inside Yearning to feel with pangs of hunger but, I cannot demolish the barriers Maybe one day a brave soul will venture close but, be warned about the storm that breeds If you have the courage - then come closer If not, then turn away now and don't look back The Silent One 3 November 2015

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Dark Poem | |

Lucifer's call

The ghosts of my past are immersed in the abyss of my mind Demons breed in my misty murky nebulous state of existence These voices in my mind over power my conscious mentality Nothing can save me as I become intoxicated by Lucifer's call Broken wings four lines contest Silent One 19 September 2015

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Dark Poem | |

Forbidden castle Partner up contest with Laura Breidenthal

Forbidden Castle

Crows gather around the mysterious, abandoned castle, 
Its bastions and towers drowning within a mournful silence. 
Ghostly shadows loom within the dungeons and the murder holes, 
Screams of perished souls are locked within the castle walls. 

Long it has stood there upon a mountain of tempestuous winds, 
Withholding a secret from haunting years past. 
Stones big, dark and looming, an ancient evil lurks inside, 
Creeping through each room, an eeriness unexplained.

Each corridor discloses a tale of bloodshed on that dreaded night, 
when the devil sent his descendants to run havoc amongst the mortals. 
The bitter queen who summoned them did not live to confess the tragedy, 
She took her life, witnessing all before her slaughtered including the adulterous king.

As a child, I had heard countless legends of the forbidden castle, 
Of the torture chambers and the merciless beheading of the accused innocent. 
Many have warned, “Beware…stay away…” and now I stand before the entrance,
The devilish crows watching knowingly, as if they foresee my fate.

“Beware the snares in the dark, for Death grins, awaiting your coming…”

For Partner up contest by Shadow Hamilton
Laura Breidenthal and the Silent One.
13 August 2015.

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Dark Poem | |

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

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Dark Poem | |

Silver Haze

*                     ~Dark Silver Haze~                               *

   (side#1)                                         (side #2)

come taste life                  ----------  Heart-warming wine
old and stale,                   ----------   Jot down a line
unflavored, unpolished,      ---------   Mood changes hue
A sour, dim shade              ---------   To sweet silver blue

the lowest feeling              ---------- How high the cost
eternal gray sky               ----------  How much is lost
hollow memories               ---------- Back payment due
A sour, dim shade             ---------  To sweet silver blue 

weak limbs, overpower         ------- Head shake and sigh
moments of lights              --------  None left to deny
everything ends                 --------  Insight in view
A sour, dim shade             --------  To sweet silver blue 

torn from reality             --------   Somehow I gain
low spirits of sorrow        --------  Beauty from pain
bitter and dull,                 --------- As thoughts turn to you
A sour, dim shade           --------   To sweet silver blue

**A deep Look Into The eyes of the Poet Destroyer**

~A Tim Ryerson Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Dark Poem | |

A Place

I have seen fair lady April
Dance with daffodils;
I have seen the misty dawn
Light moors and windy hills.
Painted in dark shadows
Of a sunlit afternoon
I have smelled the heady scent
Where blue hyacinths commune.

I have heard the curlew's call
As she sailed the wild dark sea;
And seen the sailor guide his ship
In the dream that used to be.
I have known precious moments
In the echoes of a song;
But I never knew the comfort of
A place where I belong.

Copyright © elizabeth wesley

Details | Dark Poem | |

The Grim Reaper Cometh

As All Hallows’ Eve approacheth my thoughts turneth to darkest dread,
Whilst in old age I harboureth a deep fear of seeing this one’s grim head;
Methinks the Grim Reaper cometh this time with his scythe in hand,
Which striketh maximum fear in me and maketh him feel quite so grand. 

Death and darkness doth pervade this spirit’s intent from that great beyond,
And bringeth one a chilling fear if one’s destiny be unending Hellspawn;
All Hallows’ Eve is the image I conjureth of my imminent departure,
But I hopeth for divine intervention and protection during this departure.

For I shan’t want to feel the fear and malediction of the Grim Reaper’s gaze,
As he eerily walketh in the deep mist to bringeth my soul into that darkest haze;
I prayeth then Oh Lord God, haveth an Angel escort me on my final trip beyond,
And spareth me the Grim Reaper’s terrifying visit and his image of Hellspawn.

I asketh thy divine power and all goodness in protecting my eternal spirit and soul,
And delivereth them to Heaven on All Hallows' Eve most sound and quite whole!

Amen!  Amen!  Amen! 

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved - October 25, 2014
(Shakespearean Sonnet)

Copyright © Gary Bateman

Details | Dark Poem | |

Among Butterflies Sought

Is This Nature's Glory As a quarry? Alone and at peace A life, a new lease I pull up a piece of land Take a little time to mend This rainforest trembles An open window in shambles Sitting on my own made porch I fire up a configured torch  Then Lay under, should I say What is like a porch light ray And I wait for that one moth Amongst butterflies sought An unwanted reject Like me ready to eject Take me now in this lush With the roar of death; a hush And I will go, amongst this gift Gods Eden unquestioned; my lift My life to stop the bleeding of the land So I protect this marvel, hold her hand Never can't So I chant Let me meld Forest held Me alone a window into the future slightly opened We are all just a moth drawn to a porch light penned  13~11~2014 Sponsor : craig cornish Contest Name : Chopped II ********************************************************* I believe this falls within the 10 to 20 line loose suggestion. This is usually done by the sponsor because it would be difficult to read 35 epic poems and rate them. Because I wanted to create a shape if you count lines as they line up I have more then 20. If I realigned them I would have much less than 20. I believe I stayed within the spirit of the rules. However that is and should be in the hands of the sponsor. I worked very hard towrite this piece for this contest. I loved the process. I have already accomplished everything I wanted to do with this write. I watch the show Chopped all the time.The idea is to be creative with the ingredients. If there is a steak in the basket you better not just cook a steak. The point of the show is using the ingredients creatively never do the obvious. I am happy to have written this piece inspired by the contest. So thank you Craig because I am proud of this write. However below is the ten to twenty line alternative in case you would rather judge it. ********************************************************** Chopped Too - A Rainforest This rainforest trembles An open window in shambles Sitting on my own made porch I fire up a configured torch  Then Lay under, should I say What is like a porch light ray And I wait for that one moth Amongst butterflies sought An unwanted reject Like me ready to eject Take me now in this lush With the roar of death; a hush And I will go, amongst this gift Gods Eden unquestioned; my lift My life to stop the bleeding of the land So I protect this marvel, hold her hand Me alone a window into the future slightly opened We are all just a moth drawn to a porch light penned  13~11~2014 Sponsor : craig cornish Contest Name : Chopped II

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne

Details | Dark Poem | |

It Matters Not

It hovers here, a moon opaque, obscuring mountain trails I take. No other living things appear. A moon opaque. . . It hovers here. I follow on along a ledge; below a swirling river’s edge. In front of me, the canyon’s yawn. Along a ledge, I follow on. I see no hue when fog congeals. Oh, doom of one who no more feels! The moon has fled, as so have you. When fog congeals, I see no hue. Now all is dim; it matters not. My dear one’s heart I have not got. No use in living without him. It matters not. Now all is dim. At peace I’ll be if I should fall to murky water from this wall. Oh, yawning canyon, swallow me. If I should fall, at peace I’ll be. 'for the Gothic or Romantic (old/new) Contest of Giorgio Veneto and now for the contest of PD

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Dark Poem | |

Poetry in Poetry a Duet of Lonely Blues


Is not the poem
Is not the poet

Is the observations
Is the emotions

Is the diversity. entwined
Opposing views always sought

Is the love
Is the hate

Is the sadness
Of losing to fate

Is the laughter
Of a child’s dreams

Is the love
That is sometimes unseen

Except by the poet
Who in his lonely sadness sees

The beauty of all
That surrounds the depression in he

In Poetry

I died
Long ago

My heart something broke
I became cold

I cried
For childhood days gone by

I died
A million ways

Now I write
From down below

Where darkness is the sea
That I sail in eternity

Of in the distance
I heard the notes of a symphony

So now as I sleep
A thousand deaths

I hope
For that one musical note

To wake me up
Heart and soul

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Dark Poem | |

Crying without tears

Black widow spider imitation spiralling into a web of deceit manipulating with potent venom composing a conspiracy of lies nourishing on paranoid speculation multiplying like dark creatures commanding demonic vengeance but you dug your own grave a victim of your own crime no thunder without lightning no need to pull the trigger your ego will never die your eyes have run dry crying without tears your enemy has been envy too late now - drifting hell bound The Silent One 7 November 2015

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Dark Poem | |

Emotionally challenged

My emotions are dancing to melancholic tones
but, I'm emotionally challenged, so don't feel it
Seduced by silence, one is afraid to use words
when set adrift by the intoxication of solitude
Somber November - a month not to remember
built up emotions exploding in mournful sorrow
Stubborn regret and battling egotistical betrayal
leads to the anguish of unanswered questions
Contemplating contemplation, but with conflict
stockpiling second hand emotions behind a mask

The Silent One
2 November 2015

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Dark Poem | |

Her Masterpiece Is Her Story

Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.

One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That this girl will fall
into an eternal sleep.

She doesn't remember how she started
What brought her interest to this,
How do you discover,
that cutting is your form of bliss?

No one would have guessed that she does it.
No one would have considered this one.
This girl is forever fighting a battle,
that she thinks the demons have won.

Her artwork is all over her,
Her beauty is on her thighs,
and if you look in her old trash,
you'll find her letters of goodbye.

Her masterpiece is quite disturbing,
Her masterpiece is a little gory,
Her artwork is her escape.
Let me tell you her story.

She compares herself to every person,
She is compared to each girl.
She thinks she's hideous,
And there's this boy that is her world.

She was bullied and picked on,
She was teased from head to toe,
Hard to believe that her best friend,
was her one and only foe.

Then later she disliked every little thing,
Her body, face and even her mind,
Soon she saw she was a failure,
and it was just in due time...

That this girl couldn't take it anymore
She'd decided she was done living this,
So one day she went home
and decided to end it.

Everyday for multiple days,
This girl would try to drown,
Hard to believe this girl at school,
never ever wore a frown.

Sometimes she'd just fall asleep crying,
Praying that she'd be enough,
Because she didn't want to leave her family.
She knew about their sweet love.

This girl found hope in small things eventually,
She soon would see this beautiful light,
and find a REAL best friend,
that helped her put up a fight.

Her masterpiece soon was leaving,
Her artwork was almost faded,
and it gave her a sick feeling,
the feeling of being jaded.

She found a boy that actually loved her,
And showed her love exists,
And this boy too had a masterpiece,
placed close to his wrists.

He related to her and she related to him.
She kissed his artwork and said he's not alone,
When she cut herself it hurt him,
Her masterpiece now wasn't just her own.

Her masterpiece effected others,
Her artwork wasn't just for herself,
She now had people, 
who saw her cries for help.

And then her family found out,
So then they saw the art too,
to them they were just scars,
To her they were the truth.

She's trying to be okay now,
She thinks she might survive,
Even though they didn't think
to take away the knives.

Copyright © Madison Marie

Details | Dark Poem | |

- Haunted Beauty -


The family had just moved into an old castle in Scotland; 
mother, father and their only daughter, Emmie, that they loved so deeply. 
Emmie was only 12 years old, and so innocent and beautiful. 
One night, she was woken up by a dripping sound; 
an echoing sound of water drops in a sink; 
rhythmic and terrifying. 
She sat on her bed, and suddenly appeared a free floating arc of strange light. 
It's that time of year again: Halloween night. 
Doors flew open and shut; strange voices and footsteps started. 
She was so frightened, that she almost threw up. 
Emmie made the sign of the cross, and plunged into a thicket of thorny wild roses. 
Terrified, excited and ready to run out of the house in 20 seconds, 
she overheard whispering words: "All beauty must die." 
The voice was so deathly, that it sent chills through her spine. 
It did not make it any better that it sounded too close to her ears. 
Her nightdress being torn by rose thorns like papers in a paper shredder, 
she ran as fast as she could; not back to the old castle, 
but away from the creepy voice, and strange events 
in the old castle. 
Exhausted, she searched for a place she could find rest 
"All beauty must die" the voice visited 
her unceremoniously once more. "What do you want from me? 
Is it wrong to be born beautiful? " 
she asked, wondering where she got her courage from. 
The energy to scream or run departed her, 
the moment she saw a woman dressed in white, 
levitating in the air, and moving towards her; 
a horrid face that carried the night's darkness, 
looked decayed, with worms crawling out from it. 
Remember this is a true story about Emmie; 
she gets chills just remembering the events of that night…… 

Contest: Halloween Co-Writes, By Diane Locksley

Poem Written by: Teddy Kimathi and Anne-Lise Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved 

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen