Novel & Cerita Famous Dark Poetry

If I manage to escape, I want to be confident that'd I'd be able to have this bastard put behind bars. Again if... His eyes shift, my eyes widening as his eyes turn from a dark blue to a pool of black, red veins trailing along from his pupil to the edge of his eyes. His voice is dark as he commands, "Show me that pretty little neck of yours." My mind is muddled by his words, wanting to protest to his command, but my body betrays me as I incline my head to the side, pulling my dark hair out of the way and giving him a perfect view of my neck.

We didn't let the darkness win. END OF VOLUME ONE

He tried closing his eyes but it did no comfort. “Sinners go to hell, but people like you will succumb into darkness. Forever.” Damien’s voice echoed the in darkness. He usually hated the demon’s voice but now it brought sudden comfort. “Liked the little tour?” Damien asked after he lets go of Chris. The human catches his breath. That place and feeling is very suffocating. The demon disappeared without notice while Chris ended up in the couch. His knees are trembling so hard. He doesn’t have any word for that place except fear.

You have to say goodbye to your freedom and every action you do must be calculated… there’s no room for mistakes. On the next cry of the rooster, the sacred door would open towards the present and you can’t do anything to escape that. He remembered her words again. Is there really a present place? If so… am I a part of the future or in the past? The world I’m living right now has a king, queen, princes, princesses, soldiers… A lot dies and a lot are misjudged for the things they didn’t do. I wonder what place does the present have. Do they have their freedom? If so… they must be lucky. He is known as someone mischievous and playful in their palace, but he knows that deep within lies a kid so

It was a nightmare! I have been coping with all the dangerous and painful whispers of the dark for quite some time already. I dream about the same thing almost every fucking night! I do not get the connection... In my dreams, I retain seeing two people. And I know for a fact that it's not a reverie. It was my memory. A memory from a hundred years ago! When I was still in the 17th century! Centuries have passed and that girl, even when it's tough for me to concede, is probably dead.

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,

"No, they're not good. And they're more of quotes anyway, they're short." "Okay, so tell me one. Tell me your favourite one." I bit my lip and look at him, contemplating whether I should or shouldn't. I have one in mind, the most recent one. As I watch him driving, his brown curls not falling over his eyes for once because he gelled them, the poem comes out by itself. "She couldn't understand," I begin, whispering, and gulp, still observing him, "why she found comfort in the dark, when all her life she had a fear of darkness."

And somewhere, deep in my bones, a voice, make, dark , rich, whispers, 'He’s lying.'

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.

*“The true darkness stirs.” ---