Tag Archives: dark romantic poetry

Signing a Pact in Blood with the Devil (Previously, I wish the Devil was real)

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Most people would sell their soul for love; he wants to sell his soul that has already loved, to ensure hers is the life that prospers while his becomes haunted.

A haunting narrative poem structured as an imagined negotiation with the devil, where the speaker offers his soul and broken heart not for personal gain, but to ensure his lost love’s happiness and fortune.

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I wish the devil were here, and I would just kneel

I would sign his contract and make a fair deal

He would laugh in victory, and I would sigh my loss,

he would’ve been so lucky; my wounds would never heal

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I wish the devil were here and asked what I wanted,

I would have asked a favor, which he would’ve just granted

I would have asked for her, joy and good fortune,

my life, au contraire, abandoned and so haunted

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I wish the devil were here and demanded what I offered

‘Take my weary soul,’ I would have just proffered

‘Burn it or torment it, it’s yours to own forever,

or take my tired heart, it’s no more really coffered’

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‘I am not short of souls, their cries fill my hell’

The devil would have snickered, ringing his merry bell

‘But my soul is special, for it has loved and suffered’

I would have begged in anguish, a plea and a yell

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‘A heart is so useless, what purpose will it serve?’

The devil would have said, prodding a raw nerve

‘But my heart is of great value, it’s mended and yet broken,

it has reached its end, but still it throbs with verve’

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‘I like what you offer, let’s both sign this pact,

you get what you want, I will make it all a fact

But you must know it all, and I will make it clear,

you will never love again, and you will only act’

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‘My soul that has loved, to be sold for love’s sake?

My heart that has suffered, to be burnt on the stake?’

I would have cried with joy, I would’ve wept in bliss

‘Let’s sign our pact in blood, please never let it break’

Symphony of Loss

Posted in Poetry English by

Perhaps it was never really love—only obsession wearing a beautiful mask.

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Let you and me sit in the dark glen of misery,

and turn the faded pages of our long-lost history

The words have evaporated into the space and time,

while our souls were dancing their egoistic mime

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Let you and me play the symphony of bitter loss,

and try to trace our names in the wet green moss

The moisture has dried, the fragrance is gone,

while our patience was waiting for another dawn

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Let you and me sit under the old and bent trees,

and collect the shattered pieces of sun on bent knees

The leaves have all dried and are crumbling into bits,

while we were fighting each other to the end of our wits

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Let you and me think of passion spent and gone stale,

and recollect broken dreams, faded and already pale

They have receded into oblivion, the vision has died,

while we were pursuing our desires on a high tide

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Let you and me cry and scream our hearts out,

and try to fill in the cracks left behind by drought

The cracks are widening with the passage of time,

while we thought forgiving was an unthinkable crime

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Let you and me hold each other under the stars,

and find solace in intimacy, which was never really ours

The kisses have gone bland, and the embraces so cold,

while we stood against each other, feeling so bold

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Let you and me erase each other and forget what we had,

and allow our longing to die instead of rotting and going bad

The stink is burning our eyes and bringing unwanted tears,

while we focused on our ambition and our very own fears

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Let you and me say farewell and forget we were in love,

and permit our hearts to heal like a wounded dove

Perhaps it was never love that we thought we had,

perhaps it was just a crazy obsession, making us both mad