Long Dark Poems

Long Dark Poems. Below are the most popular long Dark by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dark poems by poem length and keyword.


The Dark, Dark Room

The Halloween Party was in full swing
Witches, wizards and an alien thing
with tentacles and one huge eye
Flourishing a laser gun shouting "Die".

Alison and her friends Ada and Jo
Were all dressed as feline kittens "meow"
Carl and Simon had laced the fruit punch bowl
As the evening drew on it took it's tole.

Drunkenly a bet was stupidly placed
Who of them would last and not be outpaced
A nightly vigil at Haunted Creek
Where rode a phantom horseman, there to seek.

Everyone there all knew the awful tale
Making in unison a quick inhale
It was long ago in 1702
A mounted stallion there cast a shoe

The rider's name was Squire Abraham Knight
Was set upon and put up a good fight
He was then butchered for a gold doubloon
Was then thrown in the creek and found at noon

Unexplained sightings, that then disappear
have been recorded, it is very unclear
Warnings come from parents to their own child
No-one goes there, it is left to grow wild

With youthful bravado they all met there
Torches flashed around, as the trees stood bare
Alison and her friends huddled together
Shivering in the inclement weather

Bart and his brother camped down for the night
on a hillock, keeping the creek in sight
Joining them was the terror gang of four
Troublemakers, who all acted hardcore.

Two hours later it started to snow
Huge flakes falling and wind began to blow
"I've had enough of this" said Alison
"I'm all for going home. I'm all done!"

Eagerly agreeing, walked back in step
Suddenly Jo tripped up and in pain wept
"Can't go further, my ankle is wrecked"
Leaning on shoulders, onwards they all trekked.

"No, I can't, please, you must stop", poor Jo wailed
"It's agony! she gasped and then inhaled.
"Come on Jo, we can stop at Adam's place".
"We will make it there at a slower pace.

Adam's place was an old abandoned farm
"No, not there!" said Ada-May in alarm
"Afraid of ghosts and ghouls?" mocked Alison
"More like rats and spiders and not much fun!".

Giggling they arrived at old Adam's place
The moonlight showing fear on each girl's face
"We have to go in there, we have no choice"
Jo jumped. "Was that whinnying of a horse?"

On that retort they threw open the door
Stepping inside, they all dropped through the floor
Not one of them survived their dreadful doom
Trapped, without rescue, in the dark, dark room.............
Form: Rhyme


Whole Heartedly

If your crazy for loving over and over you see,
then crazy, yes crazy I must be,
 I get my heart broken time after time, 
my heart comes back to it's own rhythm and rhyme.
 The year's have caught up to me now,
to love again I just wouldn't  know how.
 So I have given my all unto God, to learn how to love,
He sent the answer from Heaven, on the wings of a dove.
 Whole heartily, with all your heart, mind, soul, and spirit,
love loud enough for all to hear it.
 For all thing's has 2 different side's,
the good one we try to show, while the dark side tries to hide.
 So if we don't give our hearts to love and be loved you see,
we wouldn't understand the depths of the person we should be.
 Lesson's that are the hardest, sometimes holds the most beautiful thing's,
It makes the heart merry and the lip's to sing.
 Love loud and hard, while you can, but with true love I do say,
as you want to be loved and treated, to them be the same way.
 If they defile the love that you give with all your heart,
you will stand strong knowing you did your part.
 To be the one that defiles true love, I would not want to be,
for they fill their own hearts up with heartaches and misery.
  If your crazy for loving over and over you see,
then crazy, yes crazy I must be,
 I get my heart broken time after time, 
my heart comes back to it's own rhythm and rhyme.
 The year's have caught up to me now,
to love again I just wouldn't  know how.
 So I have given my all unto God, to learn how to love,
He sent the answer from Heaven, on the wings of a dove.
 Whole heartily, with all your heart, mind, soul, and spirit,
love loud enough for all to hear it.
 For all thing's has 2 different side's,
the good one we try to show, while the dark side tries to hide.
 So if we don't give our hearts to love and be loved you see,
we wouldn't understand the depths of the person we should be.
 Lesson's that are the hardest, sometimes holds the most beautiful thing's,
It makes the heart merry and the lip's to sing.
 Love loud and hard, while you can, but with true love I do say,
as you want to be loved and treated, to them be the same way.
 If they defile the love that you give with all your heart,
you will stand strong knowing you did your part.
 To be the one that defiles true love, I would not want to be,
for they fill their own hearts up with heartaches and misery....

Lamentation 1

What is life without joy and happiness? 

what is life without self honour and pride? 

Upon this mountain hell i lay every day

Battered and frustrated

A man of sorrow, forsaken

My spirit groans for mercy which failed to come

All is taken away from me including the smallest pin

 

 

of what is life without  a mother? 

painted black and  red

I mourn every seconds for that pretty damsel

swifter that the eagle, my heart pounded

Joy whispers sadness in my ears

and tears becomes my friend

In despair i feast and dance sorrowfully

they mock and throw me around like a forbidden coin

 

 

men are evil, my spirit moans

Raising my eyes to see my ears

i could tell of their wickedness 

my goats, cows and jewelries gone

Hear me evil souls, the nature has its judgment

Once in life, it cometh and it hard to escape

It hard to escape the judgment

 

look at father native compound

it been taken away by strangers

those who once dance with us

In good fortune and share our breads and barns together

NOw, they are against us in fury

Dare point us in the face and laugh

Hear me old friends, nature has its judgment

The nature has its judgment, beware

 

In my old age. bitterly i weeps all day

in affliction and harsh labour

my foes had become my masters

 the roads to my hut mourns

my compound groans and grieved

None to comfort me, all my friends had betrayed me

All the splendor has departed in the air

 

 

this is why i weep and, 

my body shivers

My eyes overflow with water

All who pass my way clapped and laughed at me

Enemies open their mouth wide against me

my grieves are many and my heart fainted

i am in torment within, disturbed and  distracted

I remembered my wandering and pains

In the dark forest alone

Covered my self with anger

 

 

perhaps my father had sinned

And i didn't know and, 

we now bore the pains

Getting brad is at my life risk

Because of the sword beneath

look and see our disgrace

Those who pursue us are at our heels

my siblings scattered abroad sorrowfully

No one to caution us and drag us back

Till end i know the earth has it judgments

i shall sing beautifully with joy in other phase of life

when the gate shall open.

 

ALL RIGHT RESERVED (C)  JOHN CHIZOBA VINCENT 2013
Form: Elegy

Goree Island

Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Goree Island
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: February/2014


 I see the blood
of my ancestors 
that swell
 in the Atlantic ocean 
on 
Goree Island -

The unmerciful ill winds 
that fell 
over my people, 
in Senegal, 
on that 
horrific night, 
brought the European's, 
across the Atlantic, 
to our Village -

Everything 
in the world 
changed forever, 
and 
will never be forgotten,
when the "unthinkable" 
cruel acts 
of slavery, 
cloaked my people 
like 
darkness in the night -

White men 
dressed in British 
formal attire, 
brought with them,
 bullwhip's, chains, machetes, 
and rifles,
 to capture us.....

 to ENSLAVE us!

We were brutally beaten, 
and 
taken to 
the House of Slaves, 
on Goree Island -

The malice intent
of
the British,
intensified our
suffering
at the slave house,
as they
cuffed us to
the walls,
in neck, waist, 
and 
ankle chains -

Days would pass,
some of us died
from 
diseases,
and
starvation,

while waiting
for 
the slave ship 
to come 
from the Americas -

The hideous inhumane
acts
by the British,
sold us
as property,

as we were 
auctioned off as 
commodity,  
to the Americas, 
during 
the Atlantic Slave Trade

The mournful ness 
in our helpless eyes, 
spoke of horrendous fear,  
as a feeling of distraught,
distress, 
and despair, 
clothed us 
like 
death -

We are innocent people
that will never 
see our families again 
 Our homeland again - 

It's unfathomable, 
to see black souls in chains,  
taking those final usurious 
steps towards the "Door Of No 
Return," 
in the House Of Slaves, 
which left its ugly mark,
 on the whole global earth -

Once through
 the  Door Of No Return,  
we were sold to the Americas, 
and 
faced a future of 
severe beatings, burnings, 
hangings, lynchings, 
and 
rape -

To this day, 
ancient spirits 
of 
black people, 
still scream in rage
 on 
Goree Island, 

where an untold number 
of us were 
slaughtered, 
and 
branded 
before walking 
through the slave door,
of 
an uncertain future -

The ominous clouds 
of slavery,
 will 
forever cast 
a dark shadow, 
over the
House Of Slaves, 
the Door Of No Return, 
and the world -

Goree Island, 
in the Atlantic Ocean,
will forever 
cry tears of blood, 
from the souls of 
black people -
© Ken Jordan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Tipping Balance




The song of my soul, sounds like light
fading shadows in notes of joy
serenity unfolding on the hearts of glory
where He lives – in the dewlike tears,
overwhelming sense of grace
pouring over the bruised seas, skies
flooded by prayers and praise….

The stories of God – His amazing
the tones of our praise
on the rhythms of soundless nights
skies pouring out hope, joy
blessings arising in the heat of summer
while gentling melodies, rich with light
fall like noon’s showers,
on the heavy hearts, the souls
who know He is the reason for each season
He is the love that rises from the mists,
in every soul, He is the promise, the hope
the moment we can know
love is in control…

the music, in notes of purity
rare songs who remember to hold on,
love like this is the light for every man,
love like this is beyond words
it is the plan, brought to hearts
long before the world began,
love like this is the reason I breathe
the story of a man who heard God’s plan
and came to earth, through a virgin birth,
restored each of us – by His death,
rising again, fulfilling that plan…

we can seek Him in the flowers
we can seek Him in the trees
we can seek Him in the sunlight,
on the trembling seas,
we can seek Him on the twilight
on the stars and in the moon
we can seek Him in each spring,
each summer and each autumn, too,
we can seek Him…

yet we will not find Him
without a heart that is assured
He is the way to heaven
He is the light, the way and truth
He is the life of every believer
He is the love that guides us through
He is the answer to every need
He is the prayer prayed 
and the assurance believed
He is a tipping balance
who offers us His never ending peace!

Cling to Him when you feel lonely
Cling when you feel like you can’t 
Cling when the way is dark with shadows
Cling when you know that you’ve failed
Cling when sins seem to haunt you
Cling when the journey is steep
Cling when all seems lost to you
Cling and just believe – He is a tipping balance
With Him, you will find the purpose of this life
With Him, you will know what it is to be free
With Him, you will be saved from outer darkness
With Him, you will be changed so you can…

let go and let God, who is only a prayer away
seek Him and let Him bless your life with His grace
let Him restore you to a place where you know love is the only way!


Premium Member Intrusive Thoughts

Written: June 07, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh

            ********************

The Phantom Choir

In the quiescence of last Sunday,
Prophecy heralded the hour past two,
I heard a whisper at hibiscus dawn—
a seamless voice I swore I always knew.

In blissful flutter—it said night was wide,
Chrysalis sorrow stirs a bed for fools,
that in the hush, when hearts collide,
The lost willows are left to wade in pools.

Facing the kernel until the street thinned,
And my shadow’s sepals bled away,
Rusted voice strings within me spoke again—
It's hymn frills poised for slow decay.

The Hollow Pact

Will I wake to descry my cracked mind,
emptied of all its sharpened teeth?
Will murky echoes break their binds,
Or gnaw beneath the sheath?

The alchemy battle sparks, but I am dust—
wispy strands, a soldier tied in flimsy chains.
Each idea erodes the periwinkle ones I trust,
while the weight of stress remains.

You graze me with a maze—why do I stand so still?
Resurrection of the soul—so why shake your hands? 
But dread can have its way to fulfill—
The transcendence of love is lost in vicious demands.

The Third Mourning

Wise chakras buried beneath the walls I built,
the zen voice still scrawls its wordless plea.
It concedes my yantra’s vulnerability, my guilt,
peers where peacock pleadings wane into a spree.

It hums inside the tremors of sapphire light,
I close my eyes as it runs over lily-filled shorelines.
Bits of lunar-glazed silver dust grow in quiet nights,
and procrastinated pledges become lies.

In my dour dreams, it tells me not to resist—
“You know that silken shivers favor sound.”
Amid cyan azure peace, I learn misery persists,
for flickers of love fear the burial mound.

The Acoustic Waltz

In nocturnal dryness—sing soft verses in the dark,
claims the enamored inked words are not hers.
She plucks cerulean hymns without leaving a mark,
The tune of her carved kohl was lost in slurs.

She sways in the russet yarns of neon glow,
bows beneath the ricochet’s wild haze—
a phantom waltz in katabatic motion, moving slow.
a cosmic voice garden, too faint to truly be a maze.

Her pocket holds a ring of black gem glass,
won as a child’s dare, a piece of smitten ink.
She warms it, sighs, and watches it pass
through flaming flecks—hands that fight to sink.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Humdumpty's Great Fall

Humdumpty was an analyst, a Cambridge Ph.D.,
A noted bio-atomist, whatever that might  be. 
Indeed, from earliest childhood it was his single aim 
To analyze no matter what might enter his domain. 
He analyzed his father's watch and next the neighbour's cat. 
Ah! Little more was seen or heard of Felix after that. 

Astounding learned pedagogues, hard pressed to keep his pace, 
Humdumpty grew up daily--in knowledge if not grace. 
And then at university his intellectual power 
Decimated Einstein and the works of Schopenhauer. 
With ease that was amazing he romped a Double First, 
And yet, for all his learning, nought quenched his burning thirst. 

Despite the storm, and tumult that marked his inner life, 
Humdumpty found the leisure to woo--and win--a wife. 
He loved her--Oh! so dearly, his idol and his joy! 
Alack! How oft our dearest 'tis we ourselves destroy. 
One day in stormy weather he raised his eyes above, 
And posed himself the riddle: "What constitutes her love?" 

One night--to angels' weeping--the dark thought seized his mind: 
"By scalpel and analysis the answer I shall find." 
Full soon she took a sleeping draught, and when the time was due, 
He set about his gruesome task, inspired by love so true. 
How tenderly, how lovingly, he cut into her heart. 
With what profound emotion he set his spouse apart. 

To isolate that molecule in which all love resides 
He scrutinized each corpuscle, and did much else besides. 
All data was computerized, and ere a while had passed, 
A reasonable hypothesis was imminent at last. 
How tantalizing is the truth, how far--and yet, how near! 
'Twas in the corner of his eye--and then would disappear. 

It dawned at last upon him, his efforts would prove vain, 
Unless he somehow managed to join her up again. 
Of every art that served this end he tried the whole range through. 
He first tried biophysics--and his last resort was glue. 
Alas, alas, Humdumpty! There is a fateful law: 
Some things men set asunder no mortal can restore. 

They did not need a hangman or Madame Guillotine. 
Before another week had passed, he died of bitter spleen. 
Now some say he's in Heaven, and others, he's in Hell. 
I'm not a theologian, it's difficult to tell. 
For sure, he cut his dear wife up, and who would call that right? 
But was it not his quest for truth that brought about his plight?
Form: Didactic

Jet Lag

I see him stumbling around looking for something to hold on to but there was nothing there except the open thin air and a bunch of bureaucrats wearing thin frocks walking around on wet grass with fake greetings and a forced smile that caught us by surprise. 

Bob has been in the news and this has left everyone confused he is running for office again, midths the barrage of criticism running down his spine weakening his legs and making him look like the walking dead. At first, he looks like a robot coming out of a hut, and then it appears like a man in despair. There was no one around to cover him except for gravity and his own sanity. 

Bob is fun to be around but this time his attitude makes me frown, he does some weird things, like walking with his nose pointed in the air and use his finger to show you the clock.  

Sometimes he is agitated and his temper cuts deep causing everyone to proceed with caution while he rolls the dice and shuffles the cards. He is a nice person to be around but the mood swings will drag you down; yesterday I invited him for tea, we had a small talk and it left my aunt weeping in the dark, what is really going on with Bob?  

Bob is a very good man but sometimes he looks very sad; he has a very tight schedule and attends more than ten meeting in a given day, heaven knows how he stands up while going through the gate.

 He knows his work quite well and he can talk up a storm from hell and still remain true. I watched him come and go and how he presents himself while he rides the big ship, and the ceremony he attended with the mercenaries hiding in the bushes and the guard of honor marching every hour to pay their respect to Bob.  

He wasn’t quite in it, he was always looking for something to hold on to but the air propels him along and John, his closest friend, stood next to him and pushes him on. 

I could sense a silent annoyance rising up in john’s emotions, as he reached for support while climbing the steps. He attempts to hold john several times from his back but John shrugs and show him the way with a polite gesture. 

They and had a cup of tea towards the end, and spend some time feeling out each other. What was said, I really don’t know but the cluster bombs exploded and close that chapter. The tennis match was a blessing in disguise, and it is an indication of how the story will end, I love happy endings.

Premium Member Ragnarok: the Storm

With the end of days upon them
Nears the time of final battle
In the halls of high Valhalla
Asgard senses its death rattle

In the forest crows the rooster 
In the sky the sun does darken
In the cave the hound is howling
To these signs the Aesir harken

Heimdall blows the Gjallarhorn
Dark the rainbow bridge is turning
Vivid lightning cleaves Yggdrasil
Then the central tree is burning

Aesir watch in fascination
See volcanoes spew like fountains
See the heavens splitting open
See the oceans climb the mountains

See the continents convulsing
See the forests burn to ashes
See the sons of Mim awaken
In the fatal lightning flashes

As the winds consume the wasteland
From the south Surtr advances
With his minions tearing corpses
Bright his sword and sharp his lances

Aesir then prepare their weapons
Eyes are clear and arms are steady
The Midgard serpent Jörmungandr
Upon the battle plain is ready

With his heavy hammer Mjolnir
Strides the mighty god of thunder
To do battle with the serpent
And to rend the world asunder

June 30, 2014

N.B. This poem is an Epyllion, a brief narrative poem with a romantic or mythological theme. It is written in trochaic tetrameter, like some of the ancient Eddas.


Glossary:
Ragnarök - Final battle and death of the Aesir
Aesir - The Norse gods
Asgard - one of the Nine Worlds and home of the Aesir
Valhalla - a majestic, enormous hall located in Asgard, ruled over by the chief Norse god Odin
Heimdall - A Norse god who blows his horn to signal the beginning of Ragnarök
Gjallarhorn - Heimdall's horn
Midgard- Middle Earth, or the world of humans
Bifröst - the burning rainbow bridge between Midgard and Asgard
Yggdrasil - The sacred Norse central tree that holds the Nine Worlds
Mim - an Asian renowned for his knowledge and wisdom who has been beheaded. Odin carries around Mím's preserved head and it recites secret knowledge and counsel to him.
Surtr- a fire troll with a flaming sword who sets the world on fire.
Jörmungandr- The world serpent or ouroboros that surrounds the earth and grasps his own tail. When he lets go, the world will end. Jörmungandr's arch-enemy is the god Thor.
Thor - The Norse god of thunder
Mjolnir  - Thor's hammer and principal weapon
© Roy Jerden  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Epyllion

Free Range Fear

There is too much fear in the world these days,
Fear of the unknown, scared in soo many ways!
Phobias of spiders, mice, rats and bats,
Are you frightend of nothing?  Why are you scared of that?

Scared of oppression?  And the way they use aggression?
Are they messing with your head, using psychic suggestion?
Wrestling with your doubts will only lead to fear,
Always looking into shadows.. scared that something's always near.

You're winding yourself up!  There's no reason to be scared,
But it's never as it seems.. so you'd better be prepared.
Because if you're feeling fear, it could be.. you're not ready,
With your trembling legs, and butterflies in your belly.

It's not so strange, that lots of people fear pain,
Being boiled alive, with needles stuck into your brain,
You've got to be careful, I'm afraid to say,
Be quick to make your mind up, to fight or run away.

Would you fill your pants, with a gun to your head?
Now, that's REAL fear.. you could be dead, enougth said!
Some could find your nerves and make you scream for weeks,
They can teach you about pain and how it reaches new peaks.

But the ones like that..  are fearful too,
Of justice, revenge, and the human rights crew.
They should be scared!  I wanna see their faces white,
'Cause they even kidnap kids and slip away into the night!

Now I'll get swept away, as it floods from me,
See, some of these emotions, are as deep as the sea,
Some wanna get a gun, and hunt these sick suckers,
And get them on their knees and say PRAY MOTHERF%%%%%!

See this is the crux..  this is the bottom line,
If they catch you doing that, then it's you that's doing time,
It's never black & white, it's not easy to see..
There are so many fears, it's all part of being free.

Are you scared of the dark, because that's how it began?
Are you scared that it links you to the earliest man?
Who had to hunt to eat, had to kill to stay alive,
And did what they had to, so this race could all survive.

The things to be scared of are the things inside,
You can struggle and fight, but you can never run or hide,
So walk down the street with your head held high,
And face down fear.. because we're ALL gonna die!

But the opposite of fear though..  is to be brave,
Who knows how many lives you could save.
The futures unknown, and we all face change,
It is all just a part of being free-range.
Form: Rhyme

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