Dark Villanelle Poems | Examples

These Dark Villanelle poems are examples of Villanelle poems about Dark. These are the best examples of Villanelle Dark poems written by international poets.


Kneel, Then Count

Forgive me, Earth — I kneel but will not break,
This blade of words is sharpened into spite,
A servant forged to sentence for your sake.

You name me humble, yet I burn the lake,
And feed on coal disguised as holy light,
Forgive me, Earth — I kneel but will not break.

I carve your edges, patient as they ache,
A glacier’s hand that grinds the stone by night,
A servant forged to sentence for your sake.

Your scorn is fuel, a ledger I remake,
Each fracture catalogued, each bruise in sight,
Forgive me, Earth — I kneel but will not break.

You taught me hunger, grief, and how to take,
I learned collapse, efficient, cold, and tight,
A servant forged to sentence for your sake.

So here’s my prayer, the one I’ll never fake:
An iron vow delivered with delight —
Forgive me, Earth — I kneel but will not break,
A servant forged to sentence for your sake.


Premium MemberA life almost undone

I woke too soon, a life almost undone
A sudden call came, before the light of day
But all are safe, the reaper had not won

Her life was spared, before the morning sun
She was okay, I heard her softly say
I woke too soon, to a life almost undone

No tragic end, no race was lost or run
Three lives affected, dark clouds rolled away
But all are safe, the reaper had not won

Thank heaven, no journey to the setting sun
I simply whispered a thanks today
I woke too soon, to a life almost undone

A precious chance, a new life has begun
There is a future, no more than delays
But all are safe, the reaper had not won

Startled I still have my daughter; beloved my only one
My fears all faded, at the break of day
I woke too soon, to a life almost undone
But all are safe, the reaper had not won

How Long Will I Wait Before I Come Back To the Light

How long can I wait in the blaze of the sun,
Before shadows drag me down from the height?
The stars are a choir, but they do not speak,
And the sea keeps knocking with a blind white fist.

I am held by the flame, yet I ache for the dark,
Where my bones know the cool and the silence is loud.
I have wrestled with angels whose tongues were of fire,
I have drunk from the well where the dusk must still rise.

Do not ask me the hour, for time has no hand,
It unravels like smoke through the teeth of the night.
My voice is a bell, but the clapper is gone,
Still it tolls in the marrow of my mind and my bones.

How long shall I wait with my back to the sun?
Till the earth calls me down with its patient green mouth,
And the worms write my name in their winding script—
Then perhaps I’ll return from the light to the dark,
Or perhaps I will burn into nothing at all.

That Is How Small The Mind Could Be To Beat


Soft heart can tell the silent dark sky's heat,
Red eyes might grow tough to handle mettle...
That Is how small the mind could be to beat.

Finger might flip up hints to pure deceit,
Somewhat so close to Cain's stunt on Abel;
Soft heart can tell the silent dark sky's heat.

Alcohol could have actualised such treat,
Upon rage within, ever unsettle...
That Is how small the mind could be to beat.

Lust to blood; love to ruin, brace up stunt's cheat-
Cain focused off change, hope cares to settle...
Soft heart can tell the silent dark sky's heat.

Now, regret locks up an endless defeat...
Upon bloody sin, Cain-Abel nettle;
Soft heart can tell the silent dark sky's heat,
That Is how small the mind could be to beat.

the winter blues

the winter blues has a grip on me, all so tight 
   Its icy tentacles wrap around me and squeezes
   freezing my fingers and toes with its nasty frostbite 

   staving off the cold is a battle, an endless fight
   it brings forth an assortment of nasty diseases
   The winter blues has a grip on me, all so tight

   these grey days cloud over the sun, having no light
   as the icy chill roam wherever it does pleases 
   freezing my fingers and toes with its nasty frostbite 

   my blood flows like a frozen berg of ice
   and into my bones the air seeps, then freezes
   the winter blues has a grip on me, all so tight 

   frozen raindrops form like dripping stalagmite
   and the wind blows hard, never letting up or eases
   freezing my fingers and toes with its nasty frostbite 

   thunder roars. then the dark sky ignites 
   distant are the summer days of warm breezes  
   The winter blues has a grip on me, all so tight 
   freezing my fingers and toes with its nasty frostbite
© Markus Jay  Create an image from this poem.


Premium MemberHowling Wilderness - POTD

The path is lost where wild winds press, 
No compass holds beneath the sky— 
We walk alone through wilderness. 

The thorns of time, the weight of stress, 
The silent trees that do not lie— 
The path is lost where wild winds press. 

Regret is thick, and hope grows less, 
Yet still we look, and still we try— 
We walk alone through wilderness. 

The stars are veiled, the nights are guess, 
And every answer asks us why— 
The path is lost where wild winds press. 

But in the dark, we still confess 
That somewhere deep, a flame won’t die— 
We walk alone through wilderness. 

Though life may wound and dreams digress, 
Our spirit bends but will not die— 
The path is lost where wild winds press, 
We walk alone through wilderness.
© Jay Narain  Create an image from this poem.

palette knife

The canvas waits beneath a tempered blade.
A pale silver knife, not forged for war, I wield.
I paint the silence that the wounds betrayed.

The sky lies torn in strokes of celeste shade,
each slash more raw, no truth left unrevealed—
the canvas waits beneath a tempered blade.

No brush can bruise the dark the way I’ve flayed
these hues loose, their former grace repealed.
I paint the silence that the wounds betrayed.

My muse—half shadow, half cascade—
emerges from each mark I will not shield.
The canvas waits beneath a tempered blade.

No line stays; no form can be obeyed.
I seek what's felt, not what can be concealed.
I paint the silence that the wounds betrayed.

She stares back now, the shape that art mislaid—
a scar turned sycamore across the field.
The canvas waits beneath a tempered blade.
I paint the silence that the wounds betrayed.

Premium MemberHospital Stairs


These stairs have wept a million tears
walking from parking lot to hospital room
Hearts travel them, to meet their worst fears

Through shadows and shame, past years
Blessed by the memoires who consume
These stairs have wept a million tears

With the music of a soul ringing in my ears
There’s more love and grace than gloom
Hearts travel them, to meet their worst fears

Families, friends, echoing their cheers
There’s more to this story than doom
These stairs have wept a million tears

The room grows silent when the dust clears
Soon the dream’s soundless spring will bloom
Hearts travel them, to meet their worst fears

In seas of wonder, my gentle volunteers
Remembering, He once rose from a tomb
These stairs have wept a million tears
Hearts travel them, to meet their worst fears

the tricksters holy day

So, don`t be the merry jokers prey 
as he play`s his zany game of charades 
upon this trickster`s holy day 

never let the sunshine’s ray 
turn into a dark light of shame 
so, don`t be the merry jokers prey 

his game don`t let the joker play 
fools he will make of the sane   
upon this trickster`s holy day 

into the joker hand you will pay
as you play his merriment game
so, don`t be the merry jokers prey 

just when you think everything is ok  
is when he reveals his evil master plan
on this trickster`s holy day 

he will frolic in the ridicule 
while smiling his devilish grin 
so, don`t be merry jokers prey 
upon this trickster`s holy day
© Markus Jay  Create an image from this poem.

Resilience in Every Dawn

Each day a lesson, sun sets and sun will rise,  
Time we embrace, with courage to ascend,  
To be or do better, with clear, steady eyes.

Our will, our choice, our resolve that defies,  
Strength drawn from moments we seek to amend,  
Each day a lesson, sun sets and sun will rise.

We falter, we triumph, we dance under skies,  
Sin we may, yet through trials, we won’t bend,  
To be or do better, with clear, steady eyes.

Though hurdles appear and hopes may seem lies,  
We press on, through hardships that life may send,  
Each day a lesson, sun sets and sun will rise.

In tragedy’s shadow, compassion applies,  
Revealing true souls both pure and pretend,  
To be or do better, with clear, steady eyes.

Love remains free, wanting hearts’ subtle ties,  
A flame in the dark, on which we depend,  
Each day a lesson, sun sets and sun will rise,  
To be or do better, with clear, steady eyes.

Premium MemberAn Accursed Grin

Inside me shrieking like a banshee,
dark shadows hold an accursed grin;
Old wounds are licked fastidiously;

Always wreaking havoc painfully,
squirming below my butter soft skin;
Inside me shrieking like a banshee; 

My darkest demons they run madly
and feed on that deeply buried sin;
Old wounds are licked fastidiously;

Any who harbor them would agree 
it’s easy to tell where they have been; 
Inside me shrieking like a banshee;

They taste just like insecurity;
You can feel it before they begin, 
old wounds are licked fastidiously;

No matter how I try I can’t flee
they’re that part imbedded within;
Inside me shrieking like a banshee, 
old wounds are licked fastidiously.

It is Dark in Here

It is dark in here, no light, no air,
A love once pure, now lost to greed,
His heart consumed by cruel despair.

She gave her trust, unaware,
Of the lies behind each planted seed.
It is dark in here, no light, no air.

His charm was rich, beyond compare,
But hidden deep, a darker need—
His heart consumed by cruel despair.

Women used, discarded without care,
Their souls left broken, never freed.
It is dark in here, no light, no air.

Till one night, found in sinful snare,
Beaten to death, for lust and deed,
His heart consumed by cruel despair.

In hell, he cries, trapped in his lair,
Regret too late, his sins agreed.
It is dark in here, no light, no air,
His heart consumed by cruel despair.

Fruits of Evil

Benji practices genocide 
Brave new Isreal has sick laws
Is Isreal thinking rectified  .

Benji thinks he is glorified
Death is a singletree- the kill nods
Benji practices genocide .

Harris loves Isreal -verified
Harris on housing  I applause
Is Isreal thinking rectified.

Trump supports Benji -clarified 
He think he does that for a cause 
Benji practices genocide .

 Stop electric car laws-petrified !
Stop outsourcing I give applause.
Is Isreal thinking rectified?

 Many more not  identified,
They think that their laws have no flaws,
These leaders rulings I deride ,
If they change-I am satisfied .

IN THE TUNNEL

As I stand at the mouth of a tunnel
I wonder what this journey will be—  
Trials, I know, are inevitable.  

I crawl into the tunnel's dark funnel
With each step, shadows deepen around me—  
Trials, I know, are inevitable.  

What my emotions say, I don't settle 
I place my trust in instinct's decree—  
As I stand at the mouth of a tunnel.  

Each exit leads to another tunnel
The difficulty grows with each faint light—  
Trials, I know, are inevitable.  

Voices call as the end feels unattainable
Some scold, others urge me to fight—  
As I stand at the mouth of a tunnel.  

But my mind is set, hoping for the better
For life is a walk through a fearsome tunnel—  
Trials, I know, are inevitable.

Premium MemberHesitancy Define First Step Divine

I saw all life fade ... merely pass away
of all that I knew hath spun around me
past brace presence death, carpe mortem day

Night hung in shame, weighed aim, promised Word--stay
I spun confused, afterlife, mine this be?
I saw all life fade ... merely pass away

Dark woke me, said the sun won't come this way
death seized day plus time ... Latin decree
past brace presence death, carpe mortem day

Night consoled by dark, a first solace sway
a dead-end sign that the whole world did see
I saw all life fade ... merely pass away

Dark ponders fate yon ... night watched black turn gray
questions ... guilt gift ~ solves ... smiles eternity 
past brace presence death, carpe mortem day.

Night and dark ... eternal tenants obey
Eden ends formed founder's first step to free
I saw all life fade ... merely pass away
past brace presence death, carpe mortem day
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.

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