Morbid Thought
Morbid, thou bloom, in dark colored flowers
Growing in earth's most hidden bowers
Fed by the darkness of eternal night
Morbid with my expression with darkness unite.
Kept from the eyes of human sight
Morbid thoughts thou possess in silence discreet
Boiling in the dark thou brew dark deceit
Infecting thy stalk and morose lathered leaves.
Thy grief herself laments that her own soul grieves
Tempting myself, but thou darkness deceives
Your own beauty and its dark colored flowers
Growing in my soul's most secret bowers.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Related quotes
In Thou dark stormy Night
All alone in the night
All alone with my own fright
A lightning strikes, runs across the dead black sky
I am alone
but I wonder, why?
In Thou dark stormy night
In Thou dark stormy night
I call your name with all my might
All alone hanging in the night
My arms are sore, my soul is light
I hear the thunder, in the cloudy black sky
I am scared
but I don't know, why?
In Thou dark stormy night
in Thou dark stormy night
I call your name with all my might
Inside Your house in the night
Calling Your name with all my might
Father! Father! Why have you forsaken me?
'You must die so my people can be free.'
In Thou dark stormy night
In Thou dark stormy night
Jesus drew his final breath
Saving us all from our own eternal death
poem by Summer Song
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Still Dark Like The One Last Night
a dark rose growing from a dark
concrete crevice of
this deserted building
on a dark night
spreading its dark petals
for dark dreams
on a fine morning
when darkness
is gone
the dark rose
comes out in the open
to meet the sun
embracing it
with so much light
turning into something
sort of a blood reddish
colored rose
something like
glowing
but still dark
like the one last night.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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369.still Dark Like The One Last Night
a dark rose growing from a dark
concrete crevice of
this deserted building
on a dark night
spreading its dark petals
for dark dreams
on a fine morning
when darkness
is gone
the dark rose
comes out in the open
to meet the sun
embracing it
with so much light
turning into something
sort of a blood reddish
colored rose
something like
glowing
but still dark
like the one last night.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dark Rose
a dark rose growing from a dark
concrete crevice of
this deserted building
on a dark night
spreading its dark petals
for dark dreams
on a fine morning
when darkness
is gone
the dark rose
comes out in the open
to meet the sun
embracing it
with so much light
turning into something
sort of a blood reddish
colored rose
something like
glowing
but still dark
like the one last night.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song. A Beautiful Mistress.
IF when the sun at noon displays
His brighter rays,
Thou but appear,
He then, all pale with shame and fear,
Quencheth his light,
Hides his dark brow, flies from thy sight,
And grows more dim,
Compared to thee, than stars to him.
If thou but show thy face again,
When darkness doth at midnight reign,
The darkness flies, and light is hurl'd
Round about the silent world :
So as alike thou driv'st away
Both light and darkness, night and day.
poem by Thomas Carew
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Unsure
evil witch of the dark hunt
where art thou when thy shall need thee
benign angel of the bright gathering
why art thy heart so opaque
but why would thy be needed when thy
heart is not such darkness as thy is.
thy opaqueness is unnatural for someone
so pure thou must clear thy soul
if thy truly were evil thou shalt have thy
heart so pure and thy soul so clear
if thy truly were benign thou shalt have
thy heart so unclear and thy soul so dark
art thou truly the evil witch?
art thou truly the benign angel?
poem by Archangel Lucifer
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The Darkness In My Mind
The darkness on this man within
Human nature burdens this soul
Covered by a superficial skin
And yet still dark as a whole.
The darkness crowds this room
Covers every inch of this mans heart
Its natural, yet brutally soon
Still dark, which will never depart.
The darkness in my mind
A sense of all for one
barbaric, uncivil and unkind
Still dark, it can never be undone.
This superficial cloth
is as thin as paper in the rain
A transparent and pointless emboss
And still I'm dark, all the same.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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And Here Comes Dark
It's dark outside
But I see the light
Then darkness
I see the light again
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I am lonely and sad
But I see the light
You ask my name
Then darkness
You take my hand
I see the light again
We fall in love
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I can't find you
But I see the light
You were right there
Then darkness
I have my doubts
I see the light again
You say I'm wrong
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I reach for you
But I see the light
You don't reach for me
Then darkness
I feel alone
I see the light again
I read your face
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I want to leave
But I see the light
You're come to me
Then darkness
I feel your grip
I see the light
You're hurting me
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I try to scream
But I see the light
You have my throat
Then darkness
I can not breath
I see the light
For the last time
And here comes dark
poem by Yasmin Rubayo
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Elemento De Noctis
Element of the Night, Darkness. My way and my path of life.
I've been ranting continuously ever since I found out that the Dark is actually light in a different form. So I made my 'E' poem Elemento de Noctis:
Darkness was created with the land
The dark one stretched out his old gloomy hand
Yet not a soul is willing to go
In darkness you reap, in darkness you sow
Darkness is one of the light
It shines its energy out day and night
Yet nobody trusts its presence
Due to human fear towards its essence
The dark is never evil
From the beginning it is good
Yet from the beginning it is misunderstood
As both light and dark are mutual
The dark cannot exist without light
Just as day could not end without night
The path of life that nobody has taken
The path of life that I have awaken
Dark Rose
a dark rose growing from the dark
concrete crevice of
this deserted building
on this dark night
spreading its petals of darkness
for a dreamer dark dream
on a fine morning
when the darkness
is gone
the dark rose
comes out in the open
to meet the sun
to embrace it's light
with so much light
turning into something
of a reddish blood
coloured rose
something glowing like
the blood of pain
but still dark
like the one last night.
poem by Suelynn Walters
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Silhouette of my soul
The dark mountain behind me looks so different
For every time I look it’s changed
My soul has the same identity
For when I think I have finally got it under control
The silhouette changes
The mountain starts it day dark with a siloute that defines it
My soul is always in dark
The mountain gets more defined as sun comes up
My soul is always dark
The mountain end up dark again
The silhouette changes
My soul starts it day
Always hung-over from last days confusing silhouettes
so I begin clawing my way out of the deep hole
Even in sleep my soul is confusing
I dream about things that always seem in the dark
Then one of my silhouettes comes up and shines all the darkness away
Bring a smile to day that started with a mountain of undefined silhouettes
I can hold this in place as long as I need it, because I do…always
So when the darkness approaches to make the mountain undefined
It silhouette lost again my silhouette of counterfeit dies a death everyday
In comes the dark
Drunk again with so many silhouettes of my soul that want to be
I fall down under my mountain of darkness in a silhouette
My soul surrounded by light, but the face of my soul in the dark
Hidden the truth of what all these moments mean
So I pass out drunk on confusion for the next day will be the same
The silhouette of my soul
Malvolio: I am not mad, Sir Topas. I say to you this house is dark.
Fool: Madman, thou errest. I say, there is no darkness but ignorance, in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog.
line from Twelfth Night, Act IV, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1601)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Lover's Farewell
And wilt thou, love, my soul display,
And all my secret thoughts betray?
I strove but could not hold thee fast,
My heart flies off with thee at last.
The favorite daughter of the dawn,
On love's mild breeze will soon be gone:
I strove but could not cease to love,
Nor from my heart the weight remove.
And wilt thou, love, my soul beguile,
And gull thy fav'rite with a smile?
Nay, soft affection answers, nay,
And beauty wings my heart away.
I steal on tiptoe from these bowers,
All spangled with a thousand flowers;
I sigh, yet leave them all behind,
To gain the object of my mind.
And wilt thou, love, command my soul,
And waft me with a light controul?--
Adieu to all the blooms of May,
Farewell--I fly with love away!
I leave my parents here behind,
And all my friends--to love resigned--
'Tis grief to go, but death to stay:
Farewell--I'm gone with love away!
poem by George Moses Horton
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Prayer At Sunrise
O mighty, powerful, dark-dispelling sun,
Now thou art risen, and thy day begun.
How shrink the shrouding mists before thy face,
As up thou spring'st to thy diurnal race!
How darkness chases darkness to the west,
As shades of light on light rise radiant from thy crest!
For thee, great source of strength, emblem of might,
In hours of darkest gloom there is no night.
Thou shinest on though clouds hide thee from sight,
And through each break thou sendest down thy light.
O greater Maker of this Thy great sun,
Give me the strength this one day's race to run,
Fill me with light, fill me with sun-like strength,
Fill me with joy to rob the day its length.
Light from within, light that will outward shine,
Strength to make strong some weaker heart than mine,
Joy to make glad each soul that feels its touch;
Great Father of the sun, I ask this much.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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The Divine Lover
I
Me Lord? can’st thou mispend
One word, misplace one look on me?
Call’st me thy Love, thy Friend?
Can this poor soul the object be
Of these love-glances, those life-kindling eyes?
What? I the Centre of thy arms embraces?
Of all thy labour I the prize?
Love never mocks, Truth never lies.
Oh how I quake: Hope fear, fear hope displaces:
I would, but cannot hope: such wondrous love amazes.
II
See, I am black as night,
See I am darkness: dark as hell.
Lord thou more fair than light;
Heav’ns Sun thy Shadow; can Sunns dwell
With Shades? ’twixt light, and darkness what commerce?
True: thou art darkness, I thy Light: my ray
Thy mists, and hellish foggs shall pierce.
With me, black soul, with me converse.
I make the foul December flowry May,
Turn thou thy night to me: I’le turn thy night to day.
III
See Lord, see I am dead:
Tomb’d in my self: my self my grave
A drudge: so born, so bred:
My self even to my self a slave.
Thou Freedom, Life: can Life, and Liberty
Love bondage, death? Thy Freedom I: I tyed
To loose thy bonds: be bound to me:
My Yoke shall ease, my bonds shall free.
Dead soul, thy Spring of life, my dying side:
There dye with me to live: to live in thee I dyed.
poem by Phineas Fletcher
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Death. A Dialogue
Soul.
'TIS a sad Land, that in one day
Hath dull'd thee thus ; when death shall freeze
Thy blood to ice, and thou must stay
Tenant for years, and centuries ;
How wilt thou brook't ?
Body.
I cannot tell ;
But if all sense wings not with thee,
And something still be left the dead,
I'll wish my curtains off, to free
Me from so dark and sad a bed :
A nest of nights, a gloomy sphere,
Where shadows thicken, and the cloud
Sits on the sun's brow all the year,
And nothing moves without a shroud.
Soul.
'Tis so : but as thou saw'st that night
We travail'd in, our first attempts
Were dull and blind, but custom straight
Our fears and falls brought to contempt :
Then, when the ghastly twelve was past,
We breath'd still for a blushing East,
And bade the lazy sun make haste,
And on sure hopes, though long, did feast.
But when we saw the clouds to crack,
And in those crannies light appear'd,
We thought the day then was not slack,
And pleas'd ourselves with what we fear'd.
Just so it is in death. But thou
Shalt in thy mother's bosom sleep,
Whilst I each minute groan to know
How near Redemption creeps.
Then shall wee meet to mix again, and met,
'Tis last good-night ; our Sun shall never set.
JOB, CAP. IO. VER. 21, 22.
Before I go whence I shall not return, even to the
land of darkness, and the shadow of death ;
A Land of darkness, as darkness itself, and of the
shadow of death, without any order, and where the
light is as darkness.
poem by Henry Vaughan
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Lonely
If thine soul feels loneliness,
Thou art not perfectly understood
As thou soul wishes
If thine soul does not feel
The human word
It feels loneliness's hollow cry
If thine soul wearies of human love
It always has loneliness to watch thy love die
If thine soul speaks to deaf ears
Then the loneliest, most remote ears in the world, hear with melancholy
If thine soul has no hand to hold
Then loneliness walks by thy side and holds thee
If thou fear to die alone, alone with loneliness you will die
If thou fear the dark when alone, loneliness hides in the dark
Afraid with thee.
As mine tears fell
Into God's empty well
And to his lonely cell
Loneliness heard and spoke though me…
Lonely
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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To His Mistress
Why dost thou shade thy lovely face? O why
Does that eclipsing hand of thine deny
The sunshine of the Sun's enlivening eye?
Without thy light what light remains in me?
Thou art my life; my way, my light's in thee;
I live, I move, and by thy beams I see.
Thou art my life-if thou but turn away
My life's a thousand deaths. Thou art my way-
Without.thee, Love, I travel not but stray.
My light thou art-without thy glorious sight
My eyes are darken'd with eternal night.
My Love, thou art my way, my life, my light.
Thou art my way; I wander if thou fly.
Thou art my light; if hid, how blind am I!
Thou art my life; if thou withdraw'st, I die.
My eyes are dark and blind, I cannot see:
To whom or whither should my darkness flee,
But to that light?-and who's that light but thee?
If I have lost my path, dear lover, say,
Shall I still wander in a doubtful way?
Love, shall a lamb of Israel's sheepfold stray?
My path is lost, my wandering steps do stray;
I cannot go, nor can I safely stay;
Whom should I seek but thee, my path, my way?
And yet thou turn'st thy face away and fly'st me!
And yet I sue for grace and thou deny'st me!
Speak, art thou angry, Love, or only try'st me?
Thou art the pilgrim's path, the blind man's eye,
The dead man's life. On thee my hopes rely:
If I but them remove, I surely die.
Dissolve thy sunbeams, close thy wings and stay!
See, see how I am blind, and dead, and stray!
-O thou art my life, my light, my way!
Then work thy will! If passion bid me flee,
My reason shall obey, my wings shall be
Stretch'd out no farther than from me to thee!
poem by Lord John Wilmot
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Hast Thou Forgotten Me?
HAST thou forgotten me? the days are dark—
Light ebbs from heaven, and songless soars the lark—
Vexed like my heart, loud moans the unquiet sea—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? O dead delight
Whose dreams and memories torture me to-night—
O love—my life! O sweet—so fair to see—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Lo, if one should say—
Noontide were night, or night were flaming day—
Grief blinds mine eyes, I know not which it be!
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Ah, if Death should come,
Close my sad eyes, and charm my song-bird dumb—
Tired of strange woes—my fate were hailed with glee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? What joy have I?
A dim blown bird beneath an alien sky,—
O that on mighty pinions I could flee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Yea, Love’s horoscope
Is blurred with tears and suffering beyond Hope—
Ah, like dead leaves forsaken of the tree,
Thou hast forgotten me.
poem by Philip Joseph Holdsworth
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In the Darkness
In the darkness
In the darkness I do now but live.
In the darkest hour I shiver.
And I do all but quiver.
In my dark corner I shake to bits.
Just shaking and shaking.
In the dark corner in the darkened room.
I sit alone and cry.
In my darkness Its my life.
Destined to be dark.
Taken over by depression.
And useless thoughts.
Everything went dark long ago.
Its not my time
Its not my life.
It dosent belong to me.
It belongs to the darkness of the night
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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