Poems About Darkness And Death Novels & Stories

The man who has snatched the light from my life, it feels like he is here or maybe I am so paranoid that my mind creates an illusion. He always makes me feel that he is not present but I know he is present in the darkness of the house. He owns it, darkness is his slave and he conquers everything with it. I entered the room and quickly switched on the lights. I can hear my own heartbeats as I gulped in fear and my hands started shaking making the water in my bottle tremble with the movements. Never in my life have I thought that I'll be this terrified to enter my own room. It feels tragic.

The end was here and nothing would stop the hands of death flipping its wings in its dark embrace. Love came, I tasted its ugly fruit and it destroyed my little peace, the little beam of light I was holding onto. Darkness blinded my vision, the water pulling me with its strength to the bottom of the river. Still. Void. I couldn't think. I died. So I thought.

Sit modus deam benedicat animabus illorum sub lucem hyacintho luna est scriptor Ut benedicat deam luna est luna, lux hyacintho luna sub meam” (From the deep of the spirit, who has never fallen asleep, do good to me. The spirits of the air were foul and black. It is not a pleasant thing to be kind to me. Passion and thought with the spirit of the anger against the destruction provided that it is them to me. The Spirit of the cold and the frost by the phantoms of crime and vice do good to me. May The moon goddess bless the luna' soul under the light of the blue moons)

I break myself, With words, thoughts, From my own mind. Everything I ran away from, I became. Everything I tried not to be, Everything I walked away from, I see them now. Taunting me, laughing at me, For my darkness was my fault, No other's. So, when I love, it's living death. I walk alone in this path, I made darkness my creed, Formed depression, With hands of flawless poetry. I created my demons, Now I'm haunted by them. Everything I am,

So if I were to make a comparison, I could only be a part of his darkness next to him. When I saw the darkness intensifying like a black sun in Edim's eyes, I felt like a sun that had never lost its light before I knew him. Even when the end of the darkest nights was morning, even the end of the darkest tunnels was illuminated, the darkness that Edim dragged me into neither ended nor the lights were hidden at the end. These are the things I felt now as I stood before me and stared into my deepest eyes with the darkest expression. His deadly eyes were dimming the last light of life in my eyes, even the light of the street lamp that illuminated us.

"A dark, cold feeling is spreading through me like frost on a windshield on a winter morning." Katherine Webber Misery and obscurity are my closest companions since I started to comprehend. People have worn black to express their grief and my never ending grief pushing me into depression of darkness. This morning light is so dark than my night, the room is brightened with sunlight but all I can see pitch dark because there is no light no hope that

Sweet dreams were broken When I looked upon the sky Hateful words spoken I thought to say my goodbyes Down the hole, I went Where dark was the only light The frown I resent The bright day barely in sight Deep in my sad mind There I laid down on the grass Where I try to find Whatever can truly last I look to the sky Where darkening gray clouds come in The rain starts to fly Down upon my weathered skin Then I close my eyes And let the dark enclose me Now there are softened cries as I die by the green tree. Finishing my diary, I stood up to leave, but I found myself not taking a step. I just didn't want to go home yet.

Don’t let my death become another wall between you. But darkness was already creeping in. And my body was so tired. So very tired. The moonlight above seemed brighter suddenly. Soft. Almost forgiving. And for the first time in months… My chest didn’t feel heavy with anger. Just quiet. And then, Everything went still.

For he had seen the truth his fellow Gods could not — that life cannot thrive without death, that shadow is the only mirror that gives meaning to light. Bound in his prison of night, he whispered a final prophecy into the heart of creation: When the sun bleeds gold upon the thorn, and the moon drowns pale in rivers torn, When threefold flame lies cold as stone, and gods have turned from their own, Then shall she rise — child of twilight’s breath, Bound by falsehood, shadow, death. Her heart divided, her bond untrue, Her soul the mirror of what light withdrew. Through pain, the fracture mends anew,

“OATH OF FALLEN WILL RISE AND START TO RAMPAGE.” “THE LIFE AND DEATH HOLDER’S LIFE WILL CLAIM.” “AND THE CLIMATE WILL GO ROUGH.” “BLOOD CONTAMINATES THE WATER.” “DESPERATION WILL BE THE SMELL OF WIND.” “THE HARVESTRY OF LIFE WILL BE IN DESTRUCTION YER.” “UNKINDLED THE FLAME AND BREAK THE SINNERS’ BIN.” “DARKNESS WILL SUCKS THE LIGHTS.” “AFRAID NOT, THE CHILD OF PROPECY WILL LIFT.”