The dark slides in a feral tide
It cracks my ribs and worms inside
Thoughts like teeth gnash at my bones
A choir of ash, a crown of stones
No breath no break just endless fall
Scraping nails along the wall
I rot beneath my own cruel skies
Buried alive behind my eyes
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Author:
R.W (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 7th, 2025 10:50
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Muse of Calliope, RSM0812
Offline)
Comments2
Short but powerful loaded with wonderful images and metaphor. (Thoughts like teeth gnash at my bones) so vivid. What a splendid depiction of internal anguish. A fave
That line came from a place deep beneath the surface... where thoughts truly do bite. I’m so grateful it reached you.
This poems tittle is well put into words with this piece. I especially like the last line. Suffocating in the darkness. Powerful and well written. "Burried alive behind my eyes". The rhythm and Metre are both also perfectly on par. Great job.
That line came from a place of quiet agony, where the darkness presses in and no one sees. To have you feel it and to see it...means the world to me. Nothing scarier than feeling like you're facing life alone. Yet here we are all facing the same life.
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