Tag Archives: darkness

Hope in the Darkest Hour

Posted in Poetry English by

It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour

Read more: Hope in the Darkest Hour

You sitting by that grave; yes you – the old hag,

appearing to be brave, holding onto your old bag

Why do you sob and why do you weep?

Was it your son, whom you loved so deep?

Please, do not cry; wipe off all these tears; 

he is not gone; pray hush all your fears

Look into your heart; you will find him there;

he is but a memory; with a face so fair

It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour

You holding a broken toy; yes you – the poor boy,

crying your heart out, you have lost all joy

Why do you sob and why do you weep?

Was it a treasure, you intended to keep?

Please, do not cry; do not be cross; 

it is but the first step on the stairway to loss

More toys will come, each precious and dear;

happiness and wonder, each new year

It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour

You, lost in your reverie; yes you – the old man; 

all sick and tired, separated from your clan

Why are you sad and why are you so glum?

Do you feel bad on what you have become?

Please, do not be sad; do not detest yourself; 

it is but the destiny, life always solves itself

Your life was but a chapter, in the grand book of life;

your soul was but a traveler, playing the merry fife

It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour

#English #poetry #poem #time #life #dark #desperation #sadness #hope #light #darkness #death

A nursery rhyme for adults

Posted in Poetry English by

Down and down

in the deep dark void,

down and down we go

Helpless puppets

on unseen strings,

dancing to and fro

Read more: A nursery rhyme for adults

Down and down

in the deep dark void,

where all is dark and low

Rivers of sorrow

and the vales of loss,

all misery and woe

Down and down

in the deep dark void,

where all is grey and foe 

Soils are rotten 

and all decays,

whatever do you sow

Down and down

in the deep dark void,

where all is cold and snow

The chill of loss

and the sins you pursued,

regret is what you owe 

Down and down

in the deep dark void,

the face you never show

Mirrored are the walls 

the ugly truth,

a loathsome tableau

Down and down

in the deep dark void,

hides the lethal blow

The wind so strong   

the hope so gone,

the anchor you must throw

Down and down

in the deep dark void,

croaks the black crow

The end is nigh,  

judgment at hand,

but death will come so slow

#english #poem #end #darkness #hope #desperation #helplessness #regret

Mary and the Dark Mother

Posted in Poetry English by
i_no_longer_see_this_painful_world_by_nataliadrepina_dcr0n0c-fullview (1)

⚠SUICIDE WARNING: “‘Come lay with the Dark Mother, her coldness is the warmth you seek’—a poem making visible how depression seduces as a loving voice offering peace through death.”

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Come and visit the Dark Mother, Mary,

she is the only one who truly loves you

Her pure wisdom has always been there,

to you and only you, she will always be true

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Come embrace the Dark Mother, Mary,

in her lap, you are going to find lasting peace

Her love will make you whole once again,

it will mend each crack, it will join each piece

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Come and bow to the Dark Mother, Mary,

and she will tell you, it’s useless to go on

Her hand caressing your tired and bent head,

and she will whisper, ‘there is no true dawn’

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Come seek the Dark Mother’s counsel, Mary,

and she will differentiate love from courtesy

Her logic is immaculate and unquestionable,

when she tells you love is not real, but a fallacy

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Come hear the Dark Mother’s prophecy, Mary,

when she tells you, ‘you are doomed forever’

But don’t lose hope, all may seem grey and dark,

her solutions are always simple, never clever

___________________________________________________________

Come and listen to the Dark Mother, Mary,

when she tells you, it is your time to sleep

Her words are the writing on the wall,

when she tells you not to cry and weep

___________________________________________________________

Come lay with the dark mother, Mary,

her coldness is the very warmth you seek

Surrender yourself and take the final step,

just forget that you were once a freak

___________________________________________________________

Come and follow the Dark Mother, Mary,

be assured, she always knows the right way

Bringing sanity to this damn circus of chaos,

she’s the peaceful night at the end of your day

___________________________________________________________

Come do what the dark mother says, Mary,

sleep is just a small, harmless bullet away

Just please cross the threshold, Mary,

salvation is only just a steel’s kiss away

The Custodian of Unfulfilled Dreams

Posted in Poetry English by
broken_dreams_by_spacewizzard666_dd2e8pd-fullview

A kingdom where broken dreams go to die—and a king who refuses to abandon them.

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Far away from all this filth and all this stinking mold,

there is a secret and silent realm of unfulfilled dreams

The realm is colorless, neither silver nor purple nor gold,

no laughter or singing, just a chaos of cries and screams

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Each dream, once it’s shattered, and in pain it cries,

it enters the realm, hearing some command unspoken

The horn of time does not blow; it is silent and so wise,

as the dreams lay trampled, crying and utterly broken

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There he sits at the gate, the old and tattered King,

the sad custodian of dreams, he protects and lovingly guards

He has neither a throne, nor a seal, nor a royal ring,

he wears only a crown of thorns and sharp glass shards

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The dreams are his children, a few are even his very own,

he cradles their delicate heads and lovingly treats their sores

Some dreams have broken wings, and some have never flown,

yet he loves them all, whether they are his own, mine, or yours

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The King has tears in his eyes; he cries over the wounded dreams,

he knows they are going to finally die, his efforts are all in vain

The dreams whimper as life bleeds out, in rivulets and in streams,

the King knows they are the last drops of a rare desert rain

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Each dream, when it breathes its very last and silently dies,

he gently kisses its dead eyes, singing the last lullaby

The King is sad, oh, he is so very sad, but still he desperately tries,

caring for dreams, without asking ‘to what end’ or even a ‘why’

Depression and Me – Till Death do us Part

Posted in Poetry English by
demons_by_captainnutmeg_dcf5t0d-fullview

A marriage vow written in shadows: depression doesn’t ever leave, it keeps on waiting in silence.

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All the faceless monsters lurking under your bed,

and grey smoky ghosts, hiding quietly in the shed

They are still alive, and though very much well fed,

their appetites grow stronger, smelling your dread

Oh, you were so mistaken, and you were so wrong,

they are still here, and they are still very strong

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You thought they had gone and had finally left,

leaving you for once alone, happy, and not bereft

Letting you grow freely to move either East or West,

was something so obvious, but you were so obsessed

Oh you were damn crazy, and stupid to think so,

it is not over yet, the dark misery and the grey woe

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Yes, they look different and may have new faces,

their new but scalding words leave new traces

Their horror remains a fact, and it has a rational basis;

you are an idiot; you were never in their good graces

Oh, you are confused and bewildered by this shit?

No worries, you may run, but you will again be hit

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Yes, you will forever run and hide from them in vain,

but you will meet them always, again and again

There might be a brief respite, and maybe a little gain,

but then will come suffering, and definitely more pain

Oh, you will scream, and torture yourself to death;

you will suffer and burn till your very last breath

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But listen, my friend, and listen to me with care;

they are of your own making, so it’s only fair

They might frighten you, and they might even scare,

but sensibility and you? It has always been very rare

Oh, you may protest, and you may angrily differ;

you are their creator, though this may sound bitter

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The ghosts and monsters will forever stay with you;

the shadows, the dark, and the legion of demons, too

You will keep on feeding and rearing them, it’s true;

but they will keep on torturing and tormenting you

Oh, you may try, or you may find your hands tightly tied,

but good fortune is a horse, you will never ever ride