Dark Poetry Novels & Stories

Daniel carefully picked up the necklace and examined it. "What just happened?" He voiced out his thoughts before inadvertently pressing the W symbol on the ball of the necklace. A rattling sound was heard within the ball and it split into two,revealing a small piece of folded paper within. "Wow." Annabelle's eyes was wide at this point. "This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder." Daniel muttered and unfolded the piece of paper. It was quite old and contained words written with skyblue-colored ink. The words were thus: 'Luke the immortal.But not the invincible. Above all but vulnerable to one. One poison deadlier than the other. Werewolf venom triumphs over vampire virus.The might of

Words eluded him, after he'd said her name with so much surge of emotions. But then, the thoughts came. The hopelessness. The possibility that this could be another god-damned mirage. Another trick to get him at his edge. Another lie. Another reason to leave him more sullen. But as much as Arthur tried to convince himself that this was a mirage, it wasn't working. The voice was so vivid. And this time, he'd found someone who seemed like she owned the voice. His shaky fingers grabbed the shot glass and he took its content in a quick draught. Dizziness crawled up his eyes, but he definitely shook it off.

Please? After hearing his words, I felt nothing at all. No one knew how hard I had tried in the past to earn a bit of recognition from him. But now, all I felt was irony and ridicule when I heard his plea to win me back. I let out a cold laugh. "Did you really think I was the one who planned to get you drunk back then? Alexander, you're so smart… Have you never once questioned if there was something off about the whole incident?" Alexander furrowed his brows deeply. "Who else could it be if not you?"

he said, striding off to the truck while she giggled. *** The venue of the open microphone was a bar where the stage happened to be at the middle with everyone seated at tables for different number of people. There was also a bar stand if one did not feel like getting a table. A young woman was reading poetry as Lemuel led her to a table for two where they sat down. “What will you drink?” he asked her. “Smirnoff ice.” “How many can you finish?” “Three bottles.” Inara responded and watched his brow lift.

"That's because you are real, Liza. You make everything around me look real." "Damn," I said It was too much, I don't know if it was the alcohol talking but he was seriously pouring out some dark romance shit. I remember a line from a dark romance poem I had read some time ago, it didn't make sense when I read it but today it did more than ever. We all have that place we go to, where the walls and God is our only witness. where no one else sees and we hide sometimes from ourselves. We put on our dark shades with a translucent smile. Narrowing our edges and fading our beauty.

The air was heavy with the scent of despair, mingling with the acrid stench of liquor and broken dreams. Behind the bar counter, I stood like a specter, a harbinger of sorrow serving liquid poison to lost souls. The dim glow of crimson-hued lights accentuated the hollows beneath my eyes, reflecting the abyss that consumed me. The clinking of glasses echoed like a morbid chorus, each sound a discordant note in the symphony of despair.

I storm out Why won't anyone believe me, I have a real life vampires blood Arrg! after everything I went through, still just insults I did my study on those creatures for years, and I can still remember some of my favourite poetry and poems I read as a kid A Last Word by Ernest Dowson Let us go hence: the night is now at hand; The day is overworn, the birds all flown; And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown; Despair and death; deep darkness o'er the land,

“Although you appear nothing more than a spec in the night. Even then, you pierce the dark with light. To them it didn’t matter, but to me it shone so bright. Your gravity brought in the ocean’s tide. “Some say you’re a myth, some say you’re made of cheese. Caught in your embrace, weakness buckled my knees. Your presence may never light up a room, but even then You light my darkest nights like the brightest moon.” "How could an inconsequential existence such as mine ever cross a mind as developed as yours. So I am just going to hide in the shadows, As your light illuminate me forever more..."

POV: Ashmouth Darkness tastes different when it has been kept too long. New dark is nervous — it clings to corners, panics at the scrape of flint, waits for fire to name it. But old dark, the kind that learns patience, that moulds itself around stone, chains, and silence—this kind is thick enough to chew. I have chewed it for centuries. The Loom buried me here. Or claimed to.

Hearing Stephen's name their head snapped at me and observed me for a few moments. "You can go inside." One of the guards spoke and opened the large wooden door for us. As we walked inside, it felt like we were thrown into another universe. Slow erotic music was playing, and people in the room were drinking, and smoking shit as if their life depends on it. Most of the parts were dark in the large room. The dance floor was illuminated under neon lights. I don't know how many people were there because most of them were in the dark. I felt my heart stop beating. Suddenly I started feeling like throwing up.