The Mirror Crack'd

Dark Poetry

viscous stench of darkness wraps 

bony fingers of death around my soul;

it's murderous assassins hands 

skillfully clutching at my heart

while smothering my will to live,

strangulating my sanity,

leaving a broken self image

so hideously scarred that even

I don’t recognize who it is

that I see in the mirror.


 All hopes dashed; faith driven 

against the cold stones,

trodden carelessly underfoot,

the remnant pieces, 

those shattered shards,

shredding to a bloody pulp


 All I ever wanted was to love and be loved;

And now, having failed at every twisted turn

enduring it all as years sailed by

leaving my idyllic youth 

to rot somewhere in hell

with corruption, mold and decay,

where is there to go?


Those precious few who know me well

listen and truly sympathize,

wishing to high heaven

I would do something soon before it’s to late 

to dispel impending tragedy.


But after all the reasoning

I am left with all the dirty,

overwhelming gory details

Of what to do.... where to go...

How can I survive?l


For once the mirror is cracked, 

there is no putting it back

to its former reflection of glory.

Once cracked, always cracked....

leaving a garish image 

crying secret tears 

drowning in despair 

of what might have been...


Just unsightly dust to be swept 

under the rug and forgotten.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I write very few dark poems

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