Thursday, 5 May 2011


Morbid little poem. My blog, my morbid poetry. Oh, and in case you think I've gotten emo (lol), this was commissioned :D

Are you scared
of the dark, my friend?
You are, no need
to pretend, my friend.
You're unprepared
in the dark, my friend.
It will feed,
yes the dark, yes it will, my friend.

The darkness is alive, it's a thing.
It's old and strong and terrifying.
And it only wants you to sing,
my friend.
To sing and scream and plea,
my friend.

You are not prepared,
my friend.
and while the dark has got you scared,
my friend.... you're not nearly scared

The dark will fill your nose,
with ash and smoke, like a black perfume.
The dark will fill your mouth,
with tar and oil, like a final drink.

It will fill your lungs and cloud your eyes and seep into your ears.
It will wrap around your brain and clench it tight,
filling your mind and your eyes with tears
as it takes away the morning light.
And then it shows its teeth, in your mind,
black and twisted, bent like steel,
it will root and dig and grind and find,
a nightmare in your head and make it real.

Are you scared of the dark, my friend?