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Courtesy of Pandaemonium, now you don't need to sob silently in your bedroom, gazing up at your Kurt Cobain poster and wailing at the sheer suicidal loneliness of being so goddam special and misunderstood in this harsh, callous world (your realisation dawning, oddly, with the exact moment you enter puberty).
You have no further need to think up powerfully haunting glimpses into the barren wasteland that is your soul. You don't have to wear a beret, smoke cheroots and wish you had teats so you could change your name to "Sylvia Plath" and hurl yourself around the moors in the rain at the sheer unfairness of not being recognised as a beautiful and precious individual in the cogs of the machine. Maaaan
Nope, now you generate your very own tortured "Nobody gets me wah wah wah life is hard sob sob" missive whilst self-harming and listening to The Smiths/Evanescence/TrendyGothLifeSuck, wearing your cool black apathy t-shirt and moping about like your the only person ever to have to experience hormonal confusion!!!!!
Here's mine:
the night falls as if slain by the sun, soulless are we.
the understanding for which you pine
flares once, then dies,
smothered by a velvet ebon nothingness.
all hope must not endure.
your soul thrives no more.
how could you cause such hurt?
our dark emotions surround us, crying,
save us from ourselves.
Have fun with your own [URL]http://www.deadlounge.com/poetry/poem2.html[/URL]
You have no further need to think up powerfully haunting glimpses into the barren wasteland that is your soul. You don't have to wear a beret, smoke cheroots and wish you had teats so you could change your name to "Sylvia Plath" and hurl yourself around the moors in the rain at the sheer unfairness of not being recognised as a beautiful and precious individual in the cogs of the machine. Maaaan
Nope, now you generate your very own tortured "Nobody gets me wah wah wah life is hard sob sob" missive whilst self-harming and listening to The Smiths/Evanescence/TrendyGothLifeSuck, wearing your cool black apathy t-shirt and moping about like your the only person ever to have to experience hormonal confusion!!!!!
Here's mine:
the night falls as if slain by the sun, soulless are we.
the understanding for which you pine
flares once, then dies,
smothered by a velvet ebon nothingness.
all hope must not endure.
your soul thrives no more.
how could you cause such hurt?
our dark emotions surround us, crying,
save us from ourselves.
Have fun with your own [URL]http://www.deadlounge.com/poetry/poem2.html[/URL]
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The Black Abyss of Righteous Hatred Darkly Gothic Poem:
Death Deserved
what have you done to me?
a black cloud of betrayal as memories disappear.
once we experienced paradise,
childlike and innocent,
but your heart drifted away.
a sickening vision of darkness -
thoughts follow hate, follow memory,
love torn apart.
in a rush of bitterness,
i condemn you.
Last one as I have now done them all.
Death Deserved
what have you done to me?
a black cloud of betrayal as memories disappear.
once we experienced paradise,
childlike and innocent,
but your heart drifted away.
a sickening vision of darkness -
thoughts follow hate, follow memory,
love torn apart.
in a rush of bitterness,
i condemn you.
Last one as I have now done them all.
'Goth-O-Matic', supurb :^D
Alone in Darkness
the night falls with a silent sigh, cold and alone are we.
the salvation for which you sacrifice yourself
flares once, then dies, smothered by guilt.
all hope must fail.
your heart desires no more. how could you tear us asunder?
demons surround us, crying, we are fallen.
Yay, I'm deep, dark and creative too
Alone in Darkness
the night falls with a silent sigh, cold and alone are we.
the salvation for which you sacrifice yourself
flares once, then dies, smothered by guilt.
all hope must fail.
your heart desires no more. how could you tear us asunder?
demons surround us, crying, we are fallen.
Yay, I'm deep, dark and creative too
Stop posting poems?
The Eternal Love of Vampires Darkly Gothic Poem
Eternal
It is a night of death, a song of ethereal pain,
wolves vent their howls. The immortal one
wakens.
Evil shrouds her deathly form,
an everlasting life.
Her raven hair cascades over
pale shoulders, and her
full blood red lips part slightly, to taste the
red tears streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.
Now a night of taking,
I remember her.
Eternal
It is a night of death, a song of ethereal pain,
wolves vent their howls. The immortal one
wakens.
Evil shrouds her deathly form,
an everlasting life.
Her raven hair cascades over
pale shoulders, and her
full blood red lips part slightly, to taste the
red tears streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.
Now a night of taking,
I remember her.
The Fear of Religious Persecution Darkly Gothic Poem:
Imprisoned
Slender beams of illumination enter
this darkened hall as I kneel,
always silent, always in pain,
frozen here,
waiting.
Angelic forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
sparing not my exposed soul.
Tears on my face.
I raise my head, now kneeling before
this uncaring mortality.
Imprisoned
Slender beams of illumination enter
this darkened hall as I kneel,
always silent, always in pain,
frozen here,
waiting.
Angelic forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
sparing not my exposed soul.
Tears on my face.
I raise my head, now kneeling before
this uncaring mortality.
The Supernatural Violence & Horror Darkly Gothic Poem:
Phantom Pain
Around, all around, the shadows gather.
My dread grows as the stroke of death falls against my naked soul.
It crushes me, and darkly my
essence drips
to the thirsty earth.
In agony I cry out
while Death's shadow looms.
Now alone, my cry of mercy falls upon cold eyes.
This is because of you
Phantom Pain
Around, all around, the shadows gather.
My dread grows as the stroke of death falls against my naked soul.
It crushes me, and darkly my
essence drips
to the thirsty earth.
In agony I cry out
while Death's shadow looms.
Now alone, my cry of mercy falls upon cold eyes.
This is because of you
Inspired by Biggles, I thought I'd translate mine to German, then to French, then back again.
No The Title
The night fall without a clay,
Is lost us to it light,
For which you request once to flicker,
Then the cubes,
Must be removed choked by the pit all to hope.
Doesn't your heart come ahead any more,
As you could do that?
Hearts lost to surround and cry us,
With sector already.
--
You know, it doesn't make that much difference.
I think I lost all respect for poetry, I blame myself. I delved deep into the dark side, desperately trying to identify myself... (hahahahahhahahahaahha)
I guess if 99% of poetry wasn't so self-pitying (or reminding us how pretty flowers are... alright, shut up), it'd be quite an excellent little artform.
No The Title
The night fall without a clay,
Is lost us to it light,
For which you request once to flicker,
Then the cubes,
Must be removed choked by the pit all to hope.
Doesn't your heart come ahead any more,
As you could do that?
Hearts lost to surround and cry us,
With sector already.
--
You know, it doesn't make that much difference.
I think I lost all respect for poetry, I blame myself. I delved deep into the dark side, desperately trying to identify myself... (hahahahahhahahahaahha)
I guess if 99% of poetry wasn't so self-pitying (or reminding us how pretty flowers are... alright, shut up), it'd be quite an excellent little artform.
I'm gonna have a go at the others.
Heh, nice find.
"Hatred Swells
the night falls with a silent sigh, lost are we.
the light for which you lust
flares once, then dies,
swallowed by the all-encompassing dark.
all hope must not endure.
your soul thrives no more.
how could you cause such hurt?
lost souls surround us, crying,
we have lost our way."
"Hatred Swells
the night falls with a silent sigh, lost are we.
the light for which you lust
flares once, then dies,
swallowed by the all-encompassing dark.
all hope must not endure.
your soul thrives no more.
how could you cause such hurt?
lost souls surround us, crying,
we have lost our way."
Fantastic. I decided to do mine in French for that extra bit of artistic style.
Untitled
la nuit tombe dans un manteau lourd et suffoquant, craintif sont nous l'émotion pour laquelle vous vous sacrifiez des fusées une fois,
puis les matrices, dévorées par votre hantise tout l'espoir doivent échouer.
votre passion palpite pas davantage comment pourriez vous nous déchirer asunder ? les âmes perdues nous entourent, pleurant, économiser nous de nous-mêmes.
Untitled
la nuit tombe dans un manteau lourd et suffoquant, craintif sont nous l'émotion pour laquelle vous vous sacrifiez des fusées une fois,
puis les matrices, dévorées par votre hantise tout l'espoir doivent échouer.
votre passion palpite pas davantage comment pourriez vous nous déchirer asunder ? les âmes perdues nous entourent, pleurant, économiser nous de nous-mêmes.
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