Darkness

The Prince of Darkness Faces His Executioner

Are you ready for it?

I shouldn’t have to ask you that question after all that you have done.

It would’ve been rude of me not to give you a heads-up like this.

Your reign of terror is steps closer to its endgame.

If I do not draw my sword and face the ghosts of my past, checkmate is guaranteed.


I did something bad long ago, but can you blame me?

I’m just a human being that made a mistake because I was not in the right mind.

Anguish and love do not mix because both made my life worse before.

If you respect that my situation is delicate, why do you keep poking the hornet nest?

If you crack it open and the wasps sting you so much their poison burns,

don’t be surprised if I say, “Look what you made me do.”

Your empathy is lacking so why should I care if you are put to rest the next day?

Princes don’t negotiate with paupers like me.

So it goes because fame and violence are always placed above justice and peace.


Isn’t it gorgeous to be the one in control? To run a country or a sect without a care in the world?

Doesn’t it feel amazing when your subjects obey you unconditionally as if you are an almighty god?

These questions reveal to me that aristocrats and celebrities use their authority

for insolence and seduction. No wonder we can’t have nice things.

You are not entitled to my throne even though a liar was the king of my heart before.

What was “yes” today could be “no” tomorrow so I keep fewer promises.

I’ve heard enough empty platitudes from your devotees to realize that an oath is not to be made lightly.


Anything else you want to preach about before I take the getaway car to escape additional agony?

Go ahead and dress your possessive wiles by telling me you love me

And shower me with material goods to let my guard down against my better judgment.

But when you try to use your tenderness as leverage, it is all the more reason for me to leave.

The longer I stay here, the more certain it is that my life is in danger.

My hands are tied keeping the darkness around me at bay for as long as I can.

Fortune is never on my side when I dance, but my sword will always be my partner.

Call it what you want, but the battlefield is my ballroom.

If dancing alone is the only way I can retain my individuality, so be it.


Happy Raʼs as-Sanah al-Hijrīyah, Vlad Dracula.

I’ll see you in Hell.

I'm Fine...


When, 'I'm fine'

becomes your generic answer,

because you know well,

they don't really care about the truth.

 

When tears just randomly fall,

in a silent, steady succession

and you never knew

...you were even crying.

 

When you actually,

physically ache inside,

from being so bereft

of even simple human touch.

 

When the only times

your cries are even heard

by anyone who'd care,

is within' your own head.

 

When you just want to run-

just start running,

but knowing full well,

you've nowhere, and no one, to run.

 

When your own traitorous voice

calls out inside you, screaming:

'Outcast! Unlovable! Unworthy!

Why don't you fight back!?

What's wrong with you!???'

And you simply whisper back, 'I'm fine.'

Night And Day And Night

 

 

 

 

 

 

Night And Day And Night

 

Only the dark sky

can show a sheen like velvet

during the nighttime








Author's Notes/Comments: 

Ditto.

View tula's Full Portfolio

Buzzcut Boy

Folder: 
Confessions

It's not you,

It's not me,

It's not him

It's the world that has been

sucking us back in

to the dark void it's yet to fill

devouring our rainbows and

any shade and trace of light

and everything we hold dear

 

It's not you

It's not me

It might be

the words of a madman that

have devoured me piece by piece

ever since

until I suffocate and dissolve

into the nothingness I feel

at 3 a.m.

 

And I'm sorry if you knew this only now.

 

It's not you

It's not him

It's the constant fear

that has built a home

out of the shanties of my heart

Pulling the strings,

the triggers

on its whim

 

And I'm sorry but it's already won the war, I believe

 

It's not you

It's not me

It's not him

It's the inevitability I cannot escape

And so in silence, I shall

roam this world and carry

the memories of us,

your buzzcut and my smile,

and the glow I basked on with

in that April afternoon.

 

Forget about me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about how depression affects love.

Solitary night

 
 
Solitary night
 
tears of dissatisfaction
 
choking on memories
 
a torrent as the dark presses in
 
Searching, seeking
 
the long-awaited slumber
 
of each miserable, useless regret of yesterday
 
Yet, afraid to face the uncertainty of tomorrow
 
 
 

It's getting harder...



It's getting harder to remember


what I was like


before I was damaged,


before you tore me open


and forced your darkness in.


I have tried to get it out


by opening my skin


but there is always more


left deep within.



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Sweet Silent Scream

Folder: 
Struggles

Enveloped in sheets, in silence,

The sheets stay still, 

But in the mind is the scream--

the visit from you that won't stop

 

I see you; you do not,

I scream, plead and cry,

And you go on and on, with your life,

 

All I want, all I need, is to be 

needed, and wanted

 

You cry, and I scream to let me

Soothe your pain, to let me 

help in any way, 

 

and you stare into the distance, 

while I'm in limbo stuck,

in this sickly state I stare:

 

I want to be released. To let go and yet

Somehow this is still a.

sweet, silent.

scream

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Somehow, nightmares just keep repeating. 

 

And yet somehow, we are sometimes most alive then. 

View aloris's Full Portfolio

Last Climb One Last Time

Folder: 
Struggles

Each moment, struggling to swim,

The sun is over; the light dims,

My hands grasp the jagged rocks,

Familiar feeling of faint fury--

 

stuck in a loop

 

stuck in a loop.

 

Rest as the waves lap,

look up and see 

the climb ahead 

again

Memory serves anguish

knowing each climb has been

slow and when it seems over

 

the tide comes roaring in

 

to claim its victim back

to its dark blue depths

 

the cold is setting in 

and I'll climb again

 

The climb, easy now,

The top, close,

Fingertips reaching and 

desperation, sets in 

 

Navy blue screaming to

Bring back its body

 

a smile sweeps across

as salty water erupts

 

At least I know this is 

 

the last climb. 

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On Nights, Such as This…

On Nights, Such as This…

By JFarrell

 

On nights, such as this…

 

The rain teems down in sheets

From a deep indigo sky

Laden with thick, heavy, ominous clouds

 

The lightening strikes down as serrated blades

Followed by, at first, a quiet, almost unnoticeable murmur

Which grows in depth and volume to become a deafening rumble

 

The only other sound

is the hypnotic sibilance of the rain

Droning out a tattoo

 

On nights, such as this…

 

Guy Fawkes and his conspirators plotted

ISIS contrive their next act of cowardice

The dark creatures feel stronger

 

Highywaymen held up coaches

Punks with knives rob the weak

And those that thrive in darkness feel braver

 

On nights, like this

Vermin are given more courage

To rob, rape, kill…..  

anything a coward thinks will make him a man

 

Because, the day shows the shameful, pathetic excuse for the man he really is

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

yep, raining here :)