Slaughter of the Brokenhearted

This isn’t just dark poetry. It’s a massacre in verse — and the victims are the unhappy who loved too much.

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Go and kill them, kill them slowly or kill them fast;

kill them with your abject disinterest and disregard

Kill them for they forgive you their very own murder;

kill them for their hearts are now too badly scarred

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Go and kill them while they are still awake or asleep;

kill them with your bitter tears or your divine smile

Kill them for they risked thinking of the impossible;

kill them for they for once dared to dream awhile

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Go and kill them without any guilt or even a little doubt;

kill them with your characteristic bland indifference

Kill them, for they already hate themselves too much;

kill them for they have no great desire, no preference

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Go and kill them with your burning, blood thirsty, lust;

kill them with a dark vengeance seething in your heart

Kill them for they themselves beg for this final end;

kill them for self-hatred, too, is sort of an unusual art

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Go and kill them with either your swords or words;

kill them with no grey regret and no guilt whatsoever

Kill them for their cold hearts are no more throbbing;

kill them for they are broken, and are surely dead forever

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Go and kill them, though killing them is no fun at all;

kill them, for they won’t be able to either resist or react

Kill them for they dared to love too much like fools;

kill them for loving only one, was their very final act

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Go, deliver the blow and kill them before it’s too late;

kill them without even a sliver of sympathy and kindness

Kill them, for they want to now sleep and rest forever;

kill them for they are tired of all this hollow sadness

The Stranger in the Mirror (Previously, Man in the Mirror)

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He’s convinced ‘his coming was an error’ that needs correcting without delay—this is what severe depression sounds like when it talks to itself in the mirror.

A harrowing poem structured as instructions to confront the stranger in your own reflection—a man consumed by self-hatred, failed dreams, and the conviction that his departure would strengthen those he leaves behind.

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Go look at him, look at his pale face in the mirror,

how loathsome it is and yet so strangely dear

Look at him for long, and observe very closely,

and find on it quietly lurking, a dark, crippling fear

The fear of failed dreams and the fear of total loss,

of a life utterly failed, and a death by greed’s spear

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Go talk to him, talk to his dark face in the mirror,

with all of its passive and violent aggression

Talk to him for long, and listen with patience,

you will hear his final words, his ugly confession

From where did he come, and where will he go,

he will speak of darkness, and his cold depression

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You hate him with a vengeance, the man in the mirror,

you look at him with vile pity, you feel utter disgust

You are sickened by what he has now become,

no principles, no morality, and a lack of total trust

You are offended by the choices that he has often made,

there is just reigning chaos, the scorching wind, and dust

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You are so disappointed in him, the man in the mirror,

you do not hope for miracles; there will be no redemption

You witness his devastation, his fate is not to blame,

he is dissolving fast, an intentional self-destruction

He is being blown away by the cruel gusts of time,

spite, self-loathing, dejection, and also some rejection

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Go question him, go ask the man in the mirror,

Does he really have to leave? There is no other way?

And he will tell you no, staying is no longer an option,

the sky is overcast, the clouds all heavy and grey

He has to leave now; his coming was an error,

without any hesitation, without the slightest delay

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Go tell him now, go tell the man in the mirror,

there are those, who need him to stay a little longer

And he will tell you no, he has to say his farewell,

his absence will be hurtful, but it will make them stronger

He has always lived like this, braving all his pains,

and they will live so too, no fear, they won’t conquer

Mary and the Dark Mother

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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