Famous Dark Poetry Novels & Stories

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.” ---

His face contorted into one of discomfort. "Small world." David murmured. Small world, too small for Asher's liking. He had found the girl he missed for so long, but it seemed like she was still miles away from him and forever out of his reach. At that moment all he could think was, fate was truly a cruel and heartless bitch.

The dark corner was pitch black without a glimmer of light or moonlight. Zoey caught the faint smell of alcohol. Her palms against the man's chest felt solid to the touch. The fabric of the man's suit was of the highest quality because it was soft and comfortable. She was night-blind, so she couldn't see anything in the dark. Going by her gut and the familiar scent, she fell silent for a bit before whispering, "Laurence?" Like a stone thrown into the sea, her cries went unanswered. She was afraid of the dark. As time passed, the fear took her, and her lashes fluttered.

“Fine. But if they so much as look at you wrong, I’m ripping their throats out.” “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” The energy shifts again, but this time the shift is welcome. Binx, Freya, and Pandora, shadow around everyone, freaking out the hunters. Lucas gloats in their fear, and Binx zeroes in on Easton, who’s helping his injured sister walk through the overgrown forest. “What the fuck are those?” one of the hunters asks, raising his gun. “My familiars, you idiot,” I say, rolling my eyes at his raised gun. You can’t shoot a spirit.

“Tomiko’s Hell.” Inspired by the original piece, yet draws its distinct unique characteristic and point of view. This poem inside this novel and world is a curse from the depth of its very core. Read it aloud, or even take a glance at its title will surely put you up all night with your worst nightmare. Start to count and even pray for your life, as the poem is something the author thinks about as a curse itself. Too late to back down as you cannot escape its grasp. “Now, now, now, are you ready to taste its darkness?”

I was running in a world so dark; so cold A world which felt like a prison A world voided of meaning and comfort A world that ran parallel to Terra Australis I was running in a world so eerie; so mysterious A world whose floor is nothing but stone filled with water that got deeper with every step A world that will snatch you of calm and reason A world that reflected true silence I was running in a world so dark; so desolate A world that kept secrets A world that covered its true purpose beneath its aquatic sheets A world that hid overwhelming power I was running in a world of pure darkness A hidden wonder of Terra Australis A world where I have become its god Solemn Reveries of Terra Austral

There was only one person why it was illogical and spurious for a wolf to be scared of the dark; because wolves were the thing in the dark. They were the creatures who roamed the night, occupying the shadows and scrutinizing their prey, awaiting the mistake that would soon end its life. Wolves were killers who basked in the blood of their enemies and enjoyed hunting an animal they knew would fail in its attempt to escape. They were primal animals that stuck with what they knew. Harlow knew she was nothing like a wolf; she feared the dark more than anything; maybe that had to do with her recent experience of not being able to escape it.

The Baron family name is no joke, as a family that rules the underworld, Joe’s influence is unparalleled. The man had serious dark humor up under his sleeves, he never can laugh when he sees the disgusting man joked about dead bodies and the people he killed so far. As a detective, Roy despises how Joe treats life insignificantly. However, as soon as he lands his eyes on the mad Eka, he could have said the same about Eka.

Below it, two opposing forces met in a cataclysmic confrontation. I recognized the faces of the Lycan brothers, their ferocity unleashed, fighting with a primal hunger I hadn't witnessed before. And then, a moment that stole my breath—a massive, shadowy creature, its eyes burning with an infernal light, rising from the depths, casting a pall over everything. It was a being of pure malevolence, and my blood ran cold as I felt its gaze, even through the vision, pierce directly into my soul. The final image was of a colossal, ancient tree, its roots reaching deep into the earth, its branches stretching towards the heavens, yet its leaves were withered and black, as if cursed.