Dark Death Poems

Pleading For Help

There are things in this life
Weighing me down it's true
There's anxiety and depression
Are some hell l go through

The part of life called living
This is the burden I bare
It would be different for me
Maybe if anyone would care

People who are close to me 
Have left me to be alone 
They don't like what they hear
My actions

With a Gentle Hand

Ignored wounds
do not bleed at once,
but when touched for cure
they ache longer than they should,
reminding us how silence gathers dust
inside the body.

It is not that love is feared,
only that sometimes
its arrival feels unnecessary
like an extra flame
in a room already warm.

Still, a newborn’s breath
teaches another language of affection,
a fragile trust resting
in the hollow of two palms.

Love

A Spark of Life

That night, in the park, it started with a spark,
It swam thru the trees and swallowed the dark.
Like a serpent, it slithered, racing to and fro,
When it hit the apartment, the chaos would grow!

Trapped! Some of them jumped, while the rest of them fried,
I could hear the screams of the people inside.
Raging death would rage

Pondering Thought

My life is declining fast
I gave up all my control 
This life i live is reckless 
My heart has paid the toll

As I go through this life
Struggling with each day
For me the day is a victory 
When myself I don't slay

I've pondered that thought 
So quite often In my head 
I'm certain of many ways
I

end

every lifetime excursion encounters finalities emersion
not nudists, nobles, normals or nutties can neglect the noose
daunting  ..  or .. desired ... deaths date is destiny determined
                            

Hesitation my friend lets die together

Hesitation greets me like a neighbor
Boring its eyes into my skull with a friendly smile
It has no face and no skin
It doesn’t even have eyes

The morning air is hot and solid
Like water but thicker
My hands are sweaty and covered in blisters
And my legs, do not respond

The air of dirty mornings
Shifts in scent
Till the sour tang

untitled

frost  e n r o b e s  your grave
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USA Green Card

They told you America is Heaven—
and you believed,
as though Paradise were sold on paper,
as though salvation were stamped in ink.
But I tell you: a lie repeated
is more dangerous than a sword.

The Green Card—
a talisman of the desperate,
a relic worshiped by those
who cannot see the rot beneath the marble.
More than seven hundred thousand sleep on its

Mack and Stack

Seed of Fear:  Jack and Jill

Mack and Stacks went up to the trap,
to stash a pail of cash, slick and packed.

The street was quiet, corners still,
sun hung heavy over the window sill.
Mack held the bag, pockets tight with green,
Stacks right behind, eyes sharp, unseen.

A shadow broke, the door rattled loud,
a flash, a bang, the

You're gone

I wait upon the threshold, bare,
A hollow silence chills the air,
I call your name, but none reply,
Only my echoes, and they die.
Yet I linger, lost, sorrow on,
Yearning for a voice, long gone.
Hearing phantom calls everywhere,
You’re not there.

I remember when I held you near,
Your presence lingers, ghostly, clear,
I reach into the empty sphere,
As if you will

Obituary

Seeking life among the dead
living like the dead among the living
a ghost haunting city streets
chasing the void--
the dark places/
between the stars and neons

An atheist on his deathbed

An atheist living soul was floating above on  deathbed,
because if he touched it, he would leave this world.

He let the pain out and screamed through his dying soul.

A guy who was once drenched in every bit of gold
comes to him and says:
“I want to make a compromise with your soul and body—
I will save

I tried to cut my toenails, but I couldn't bend

I tried to cut my toenails, but I couldn't bend.
It gets harder and harder the nearer the end.
And there's just no hope for a remedy.
Your body's becomes the enemy ~
and death a yearned for friend.

Death

 Pyramids Poetry Contest 
Joseph May

DEATH
Flat line
Cold hearted

One chamber, one shot
Suicide triggers loss
A good wife left grief-stricken

"Why did he give her a black rose?

The day i came and went

For a while, I have been gone,
Not so much for I left my poetry in my stead,
So they read, so they remember...
Yet here I am, alive yet dead.

They look at me with eyes,
Eyes that made mine cry,
No hugs, no hellos, or a faint gladness--
For I am here, alive yet dead.

The house I lived in, now

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