gothic poetry
-
The Angel Without Light
When you wander through the endless night, the memory of day dissolves. The sun is no longer a friend but an adversary, a blazing tyrant whose touch scorches without mercy. I have not felt its light for … who can… Continue reading
-
The Crow Ascends
Beneath the shroud of twilight’s veilWhere whispered winds weave ancient talesThe crow ascends on sable wingsA harbinger of shadowed things With eyes that glint like midnight starsThey peer beyond fate’s iron barsThrough realms unseen, their keen gaze roamsIn wisdom’s depths,… Continue reading
-
Christmas Eve’s Specter
Beneath the moon’s icy glowA phantom stirs where shadows grow It treads the halls in spectral whiteA silent watcher of the night Its hollow eyes, a mournful pleaFor peace it seeks eternally Each Christmas Eve, it fades awayYet leaves a… Continue reading
-
The Shadows Flow
Beneath the moon’s cold, weeping glowThrough shattered panes, the shadows flowHer whispers haunt the silent hallWhere love betrayed began to fall Faded roses, petals strewnHer spirit lingers with the moonA ghostly ache, a longing sighFor love that lives, though it… Continue reading
-
The Raven’s Line
In twilight’s pallid, ashen glowA specter stirs with ink-stained flowEdgar, bound to midnight’s gleamA captive to the wraith of dream Trembling pen, what muse is thisThat weaves a world of dread and bliss?Through hollow halls where shadows playAnd madness guides… Continue reading
-
The Sadness Of The Moon by Charles Baudelaire
The Moon more indolently dreams to-nightThan a fair woman on her couch at rest,Caressing, with a hand distraught and light,Before she sleeps, the contour of her breast. Upon her silken avalanche of down,Dying she breathes a long and swooning sigh;And… Continue reading
-
Night Whispers
Listen closely—do you hear them?The whispers in the night,Carried on the breath of long-lost souls,Dancing through the winds of forgotten time,Brushing softly against the nape of your neck,Their voices are like shadows, drifting near your ear They speak of regret,… Continue reading
-
Time’s Silent Devourer
Time marches on—unyielding, blind, and deaf to cries.Is it a circle, infinite? Does God linger, watching beyond its edge?Within the ticking gears of clocks is the slow erosion of progress.Each fleeting second gnaws at my skin,Tearing me closer, closer—ever nearer… Continue reading
God Is In The Radio 