Best 30 quotes in «dark poetry quotes» category

And all we feared inside the night / shows true in morning's biased light.

Darling, even raindrops try to wipe my teardrops but your thoughts haul out more tears from my liquid eyes and then teardrops replace raindrops...

I'll put my lips up to your gun and blow, just so you'll know I can be bold once I'm shining bright.

Don’t pack your bags just yet, stay awhile, Don't try to run away to higher ground, You're in my twisted clouds of sad misfortune, And you are such an entertaining crowd! (I’ve never had such cheerful toys to play with...) Forget I said that – just a little natural disaster Humour, Ha-ha-ha. Pull up a rusty lawn chair On the waterfront in New Orleans, And ignore the wind that howls, Things aren’t always as they seem. I can smell fear in the air, Fresh amidst the cornbread steam, Forgive me if I sound excited, (I’m going to be famous, you know!) And let me take your money, please! I’ll drown your family, hunt down your pets, I’ve got tricks that I’ve never even tried yet, And it’s so easy when I get the chance! (I’ll swipe your house in just one glance!) As the saying goes, it all comes out in the wash, But I’m the only wash that leaves no stone unturned, Financial devastation is my middle name, And social degradation is my third! You, little boy from the bayou bank, You used to fish for pointless fun (I can appreciate having fun), But after I go, you’ll find your parents poor, You’ll have eviction notices on your door, You’ll have to sell any fish you can catch, In a desperate grasp for money, Although I hate to break it to you, That bayou’s polluted, honey! I see nothing in your future but welfare cheques! And you there, little girl with the closet of toys, You were born well-off with a room of your own, You have dresses that look more like They’re from fairy-tales, Glittery lace on your schoolgirl gowns. Wait ‘till murky water licks those hems, And your family is bankrupt And you’re homeless with them! Accept what’s to come, won’t you please? I’m just a carousel of wild winds Who’ll bring you to your knees! Hell, yeah! Take a bow, take a bow, Take a bow before your god… I might just pardon you If you’ve got magic up your sleeve! If you’re swift and resourceful you could outrun me! I always love a challenge! I always love a game… The question on your mind Is in regards to my first name, Right? My name is Katrina, the witch of the skies, A sorceress whose debut dance makes everyone die, I know it’s not what you wanted! (But I’m selfish through and through), So, c’mon and make me happy! Whether you’re ready or not…

I look up upon a sparsely starred abyss Having wandered to this street corner In the middle of the night Watching the cars and people go by Wondering If this deep, black nothingness Is the sum total of being human.

I wish I could see butterflies burst from cocoons Without tempering my amazement Knowing all beauty eventually dies.

Linear’s defeated form The intangible reality rise.'' ~ Wanderer

Maybe tranquility is the dirt under my nails. I know it's there but I never feel like digging it out.

Pressure knocks at my door A clock ticks and demands its due The lava burns from the floor But not in a game like it used to. So little time to figure it all out So many distractions to prevent success I’m in a dark forest with no path or route But this internal fire knows no rest.

Shake me, take me by my shoulders and turn me Over and under until I can’t recall how it feels to Have my feet planted on the ground.

These colorful polaroids Are like magical portals Leading to places, emotions, and people Who had slipped into the midst of the forgotten, Into the odd ether of willful omittance.

The stars stare back In that deep, Soul-shattering blackness And from the depths of existence Comes a cruel, icy wind Raising the hairs On the back of your neck And suddenly it feels Like you’re walking a tightrope Over that endless abyss On one sad, fraying, thin Violin string.

The Thing Is to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you've held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the slit of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills than lungs; when grief weights you like your own flesh only more of it, an obesity of grief, you think , how can a body withstand this? Then you hold like life a face between your palms, a plain face, no charming smile, no violet eyes, and you say, yes, I will take you I will love you, again

This piece of inked paper stands a colossus A monument to a string of moments once dear; The only surviving testament to a time When these background bridges remained unburned, Before they became so much unswept rubble.

Time is the cruelest of physicians, healing All wounds, but always slowly, looping A surgical needle through the mind’s flesh, experiencing Torment again over again, repeating Until anesthetics bring an end to feeling.

You burn like a candle inside my soul, showing me a way through this darkness.

You do not see the painting in the attic The maggots on skin that tear. The beauty is a trick. Narcissus - promise naught but air...'' ~ Dorian Gray

In vain I try to jump into the photo To create again a time so simple That a piece of paper might encapsulate it From the erosive winds and waves of time Which bring even the greatest of loves to a grave of dust.

I often wonder and imagine What lies just beyond the fringe Of the human experience; What is it that we do not see?

I’ve always hated it when authors seem to find joy In killing my favorite characters. With gleaming eyes they toy With turmoil in every chapter. Just when they’ve got you attached To the character’s quirks and flaws To their words and their demons Just when you’ve fallen in love With the character’s identity— With a cruel turn of the lip The author smirks and kills them off And at our gasped pleas, merely scoffs. But the author was God And my favorite character was you And I still can’t believe You’re gone.

Love is the poetry of the stars The wind is the breath of the earth To never become who you are Or to change at all, which is worse?

Loving someone is a form of torture.

No misery ever so beautiful than the one this mind creates.

Real life is just another stage. Just another stage where I have to look and act Like I have everything put together; everything neat, perfect, and in order, when in reality I’m slowly dying, Slowly decaying, screaming and clawing, at this little box I’ve been put into,  Trying desperately to escape.

Reason to live, they repeat like a pop song, The bones of a beloved emperor, and I, the motionless chariot trying to drag them home with forced hope.

She is the light, at the end of this endless tunnel.

Sleepless nights Spent looking at the ceiling Searching in those etched patterns For some sort of adhesive To glue together the broken pieces Of a soul crushed By the weight of the fact that Life is profoundly sad.

Un peu, si tu tombes, je te retiens. Beaucoup, si tu tombes, je te rattrape. Passionnément, si tu tombes, je tombe avec toi. A la folie, il me suffirait de te pousser.

We are a handful of dust in God’s image Before we return again to dusty grave Life isn’t a war, it’s a scrimmage A hyphen between two dates.

With a ring around the rosary And a pocket full of crosses Ashes to ashes They'll all fall down