Long Gothic Poems
Long Gothic Poems. Below are the most popular long Gothic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gothic poems by poem length and keyword.
Don't say a word
It's time to finally leave this world
The difference between close and lose
Is the letter c the chance to choose
And once and for all
The leaves begin to burn and fall
A spiral staircase
And you're running down
Out of this place
Away from it all
Away from this face
You’re packed up
Delicately with a sheet
The doors are closed
We’re following behind
Closely like sheep
We're all alone
But all we can hear
Is this steady dial tone
And you can’t pick up the phone
But I’ll give it all away
For the missing piece
And I’d scream my lungs out
Just to have some peace
My mind will wear thin
Like a ribbon tied to your wrist
I’ll bear this pain
For a new plot twist
The Crocked souls final Toll
In the veil of darkness,
There creeps the crooked ugly dark soul
Who opened Hell’s door
With a key stolen from the gate keeper
Hiding so nobody sees it
Looting anything worth coin and pure
With a dark plan within its soul
How to resurrect its self
As an innocent soul
As it envisions itself as dignitary
Throwing its sulphur glare
At folk who challenged it
It couldn’t hold its contempt to long
As Hell’s bells rang
Then folk’s sudden realisation
It was stealing from them
They took the key and prey tell
It got caught and thrown back into Hell.
Grateful Hearts
You awaken us in the morning, with the warmth of sun upon our face.
When twilight turns and gothic shadows fall,
You illuminate the night, with stars to guide us with your grace.
Lord we are grateful, for the beauty that surrounds us,
from bosky woods to meadows lush and sweet,
to spiraling mountains, fields of grain and waving heads of wheat.
You bless us with our daily bread which we are thankful for,
Our table never lacking, of hearty, healthy fare;
We gather together, and bow our heads and share.
Lord you are beside us, as we go about our day,
You protect us from the wrath of fear, struggle and strife,
We ask for your continued guidance, as we go through life.
You are our shield, our protector, when adversity comes our way,
We know you are listening, as we humbly pray~
With Grateful Hearts
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, stuck on repeat,
Play like a needle scratching a broken record.
Cupping my ears, I try to shut out the incessant noise,
But it just ricochets like emotional shrapnel,
Piercing into my tormented psyche.
Reliving the vital few seconds of a scene gone so wrong—
Have we somehow traveled past the event horizon,
Becoming an implosion of complete annihilation?
As the wind whips past, sending ripples through the air,
I frantically search the debris for answers.
Grasping at particles of dust—
Invisible atoms of desperation.
But they're unattainable.
It is to be our downfall,
Just as a resolution to this inquest
Disappears with the sun
As it wanes over the mourning horizon.
A blood-dipped letter lies before me,
Wrapped in moth-ridden silk,
Written by your ghastly fingers.
The cold of another bleak fortnight settles in,
While crimson-eyed ravens rest upon creaking window sills.
Stoking the fire, umbers rise and dissipate before me,
Painting prophetic warnings in the air,
As the distorted ticking of clocks chimes tensely,
Repeating the same hour—two a.m.
A crisp chill shoots up my spine,
I wrap myself tighter in your charcoal shawl,
Reaching for the last of the firewood you chopped.
Placing it in the hearth, I now know it's time.
Removing the silk, I cast it into the flames,
Peeling back three wax skull seals.
I open the fateful envelope,
The curse you unknowingly wrote into existence.
Placed upon me, it rests in my weeping hands—
One cataclysmic night was all it took,
For our destruction,
Your soul claimed by the nether,
And mine bound within a perpetual loop of despair forevermore.
An antique shovel pushes into sacred dirt,
sprinkled with cinnamon and crushed obsidian rose petals,
while a blazing bonfire roars,
lighting up the night sky.
Ravens watch with intense scrutiny,
the voices in my head quieting,
as snakes slither around my neck.
Opening a weathered pouch,
I remove ceremonial offerings:
bottles of blood-red wine and pristine garnets.
I place them among shedded snake skin,
gingerly replacing the earthen soil.
The intoxicating scent of dragon's blood surrounds me.
Orange flames crackle, mutating into the deepest blues.
Claret clouds partially cover the full moon.
Shadows of ebony horns dance within the in-between.
Melodious gothic hymns fill an anticipating soul.
Warm breath flirts with the back of my neck.
Razor-sharp nails gently glide against pale flesh.
A beautifully savage silhouette forms in the corner of my eye.
Tonight, I dance with Lilith
among the ashes of glorious destruction.
Drink your bitter tears
From a goblet of fire.
Transcend your longing
For resilient pearls
Exploding along your
Jaded Path.
Let wonder feed rhythm
Stirring your turbulence.
For if ever there were a
More encumbered stream,
Savor tomorrow.
I tremble from your
Thunderous voice.
Concave dreams hold me
No more.
For I'm restless. I can't pass through
An eye of a needle, but I hope to
Climb His stairway to heaven.
When fire rises from earthen
Vessels, my longing channels
Inner strength to feed my woes.
Bestowed upon my heart are
Remnants left by howling wolves.
They fester their cries to a moaning
Moon.
Dream away chantilly lace when
Cognizant seeds of sorrow envelope
Your tired soul.
I'm humbled by your untimely arrival.
For to renounce all frailties invites
Stoicism.
Shiver in mystic waters,
And walk towards enlightenment.
However lost your spirit becomes,
Always go with the Way.
There is no sunlight upon my face
When jagged knives cut through
Me.
For encumberment entails salty tears
Burning along sated flesh.
Where is my sunrise to welcome
Poignancy?
How can I belling you when
All has a price, but no value
To bend.
I wear the flame of your name,
traced in jaguar herbs
between pearl blades of angels,
pulling in the heat of your wildfire...
My soul branded with a burning love feather
molten madness stroking the light rebellious,
Your identity a touch of kissing curves,
I am mantled with a cloak of star rain...
Addicted, engrossed,
as my silhouette aches to be drenched
in rivers of your rushing rhymes,
breathing nothing but the dream
of being chained
to the footprints of your soul...
Tethered to the stride of my soul
heartbeat warmly pained,
You follow with yielding scream
my attention on your pulsing eyes,
I spread open the vellum
of poetry achingly inked,
scent of rose melting frost...
I've witnessed them christen
my night as lethal,
their prayers painting me as sin,
while I entomb their accusations
in a blood stained envelope,
laid to rest in a casket of poisoned lilies,
for I am no longer their Lilith
crowned with silken serpents,
jeweled in jinxed jasmines,
I am the rose gold rays of sunrise,
wrapping you in blushing silence...
But if love were your ink,
what would you bleed?
Within your bloom there is a violet innocence,
weaponized once for ritual license
a jewelry box of black magic temptations,
Tiara of bloodstones broken for love repentance,
A Goddess become Woman trueth,
the coffin become catalyst to living tears,
elegant gown now simple linen of lilac hope,
reputation now means nothing before heart's divinations,
You are no harpy, you are my revelation,
You are love beautiful,
the reason for my passion crystal...
J.A.B.
I.E
Beyond the distant saddened sight,
inside this lonely broken place,
I see the light that slowly fades,
the flame that burns like love's gaze
into this empty soundless space,
the void of mind and thought and name,
where all has gone and naught remains
but,
as time dreams past in impassioned reverie
will the darkness possess my night
and end my sleep in incarnadine terror.
Can the warm flame illuminate the shadows
that purloin my silent illusions,
or is the light but a trick of the eye
hiding the raven that waits to take flight.
and,
does the flame feel the darkness,
does it sense the cold.
Can it imagine its own loneliness.
Will the cold's embrace in icy indifference
sooth the pain with veiled deception.
When its warmth begins to diminish
will the dark caress its waning glow,
or,
is it yearning that drives the emptiness.
Is it drawn to the flame
sharing its light in warmth and comfort,
to feel for the briefest of moments,
desired, wanted, needed,
beyond the ceaseless unseen tears
that fall from its ebon unseeing eyes,
then,
flicker flame for soon you will leave,
but memories of you shall linger on
like morsels, so sweet, of pastel dawn
and end of day shall come again
with fear of pending evening's gloom.
Fear not as shade engulfs the flame
for I may search for love too,
so,
embrace me, for I am the dark.
12/11/2019
…obliterated night of the seven seasons
tickets and thickets and trains collide
into the cliché of licking tongues
wed to the bred moan of capitalism
(grinning gothic gremlin) smile of a nurse
before the coma saturates the elliptical
thought of the ghost mutes trepidation
(ride the crest of the adder’s riddle)
infested with scales of karma flaking
magic merging with the indifferent
Earth (and the sky implodes anxiety)
--a voice says crawl back to childhood—
innocence is an oblivious death-sentence
terminated without punctuation (again her)
approval is a mark of degeneration (descend
-ing) linked aphasia is the coded dance of night
…sour taste in the heart as the mouth spouts
…verbs of deeds painted like profanity
…I see her riding the obelisk of risk
…until the tendrils lie
shivered awake by mourning nothingness
thrown back within the iris of truth
drowning in the colors of reason…