Dark Poems | Examples of Dark Poetry

It’s not just about shining. It’s being seen while shining Without someone throwing a blanket over your flame, because they’re scared it will burn brighter than theirs. When light enters a room, it does not negotiate with darkness. Darkness simply scrambles for cover Guilt when it’s cornered slithers in shame Where shadows confess just by meeting the light, no speaking, no...

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slow uncertain steps, eyesight dim gripped with fear, enslaved by desire we’ve toiled but failed and now we tire lost in dream realms, future seems grim we must rest senses five and thought in silence becoming self-taught where is God ~ we wish to see Him mere words and symbols will not do soul’s eye offers a wiser view gentling touch we sing a...

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Hope begins at night When the lights are out While you lay in bed In the dark And try to fall asleep. It’s when all the thoughts Start to creep in to your head And you want to grab a notebook And a pen And starting writing things down Like a maniac. So, Hold on to that...

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I found this book of empty pages... ...sat down on my bed. I closed my eyes... Then I went into my head... All I could hear was your voice... All I could see was your face... My body began to tingle... ...at the warmth of your embrace. My heart began to beat faster... That's when you touched me. That's when you kissed me gently... And said...

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When the early bird catches the worm, its beak clenches the slimy thing real firm; then, it shakes it violently, to and fro, as if to let the dangling wriggler know, this ~ is the end of the show....

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It's too dark for her. She daubs mascara on glass. The mirror has no arms... Night's just in the morning. There existing, the eyes ran Upon former years, tears The mood stops, reflecting Make faces, she's mine Broken embers from limbs Vice and crash, Both's empty blood — She's twisting surfacing Barbwire that Blocks out Shards...

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I’ve come to—k(now), the sobering conclusion that I must be a lunatic; else what sufficiently explains the smirking smut clouding my judgment?—what viscous illusion— outright{(diagnosable[,perhaps)delusion]},— persuades me to heed your haughty strut? Each inch of every corner of my gut is begging—not—accept—refuse—intrusion. ah!, but I budge, I give in to temptation! why,why,why must I make the same mistake instead of just quite well so simply...

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_______________ (PoetrySoup Format) _______________ . . . when days hold doubt, distracting with distance, and feathering through darkness has become a challenge ~ remember me dear friend, and these moments t r u e ~ ...

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one trick pony the man was too corpulent to dress in lime green and lemon yellow yet it was his colored grapefruit vest that identified him with the ponies sometimes a man does what he must there was no carousel and only three tired ponies guided in a well-trodden never-ending path he called them his three-trick ponies though there was...

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"Sometimes, the heart holds on in silence—tied to old habits, haunted by what could never be. cry swallowed by shadows, a confession born from obsession and self-betrayal. This is not a love poem. It’s the echo of wanting what was never mine to hold" The past still hums beneath my skin, an ache, a whisper, soft as sin. The...

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I was sipping tea, so calm, so sweet, Charts were clean, no sign of heat. NY session, chill as can be, Then—BOOM!—the news comes straight for me: “Trump is back, and he's not done— More tariffs, more drama, more Twitter fun!” He taxed China, slapped their goods, Markets flipped—I lost my “shoulds.” Steel from Canada? Hit with a fee, Even Mexico got no trading...

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It's only 2:00 am. I even waited to take the drugs till midnight, so I wouldn't have to fight an extra 2 hours through the night Not that it makes much of a difference. In 4.5 hours my alarm will go off (not that I really need one) and I'll continue to just survive each torturous moment. The only difference is the daytime doesn't have the...

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These next _ minutes are going to be hard... I open my eyes Not sure what time it is, but I bet I can guess. The drugs never work for more than 2 hours, and the distress from the pressure in my head and throat has been suppressing more than 2 hours of sleep a night for months now - even with the drugs. They have...

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Night creeps into midday, enters the dawn and lingers, it arrives too early on a summer evening. This night-light is moonless, it surrounds you as you drive to a gravesite, or as you lay in a clinically white mausoleum too close to a fraying thread of life. It slides under a thought, smothers it, as you reach for a dark-red wine a glass saturated with...

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Staring into the stratospheric abyss Cumulus clouds swiftly drift along. As I stand at a dusty precipice, The white-hot heat of the sun beating down, Microscopic gravel crunches beneath questioning feet. A flood of overwhelming emotions washes forth, Whilst a broken heart is drowning. The last words you spat at me,...

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