Dark Poetry
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To the pale skin,A void dripsTears to stain cheeks that were never taintedLike this,Like how the petals in your mouthEcho your lost screams.For to shower your existenceWith fireWill only seek to end the coldnessIn your relation. You have eyes that never burn a pathFor your naked feet to walk.You have shoulders, continually caressedBy the hand
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Why light,WhySo bright?What have I burnedOf the stilled tomorrow?Her hair radiates,Her skinEscalates, the tempest,Me,And the fuses at the endsOf herWorn fingers. BeautySmiles, one of heavinessTo myAching body.Her ownEclipses what I see of light,So bright,With giants to every step,Every encroaching hourTo my feeble sight. Lead on,My womanWhose arms crawl,Whose legs drag,Though still remains beautifulTo even the
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I cannot tellWhich part of the night with starsLeads me to Heaven,Or withers me to Hell.I dream of drinks,Of chalices full of tears,Full of another’s blood.There, to the winds that carryThe scent of a funeral’s pyre,I effort myself to loathe,Never to love. Dreams can tell apart,Day from night.And I,With hollowness to every scar,Stare into the
Modern Romanticism 