As I dwindle away,
Leaving me sick and gaunt,
I start to ponder over the
Bad omens that have encircled me.
I know that I will perish,
And in the end, I slowly
Fade away to nothing.
The cycle has already started.
So I vow to end my life
After I commit a terrible sin,
A sin so terrible that
My soul will be damned to hell.
For there is malice in my
Deranged and warped mind.
I shall emerge from the darkness
After my fears subside,
And in a solemn, placid way,
I shall bring down the wrath
Of my anger—
For I am an angry god.
And I will cherish your death,
While I drink your blood for charity
To my selfish, greedy desires.
And then I will rip my heart out
Of my shallow bosom and die.
Then I will be shrouded,
Buried, and left for the
Worms to eat my remains.
I start to ponder over the
Bad omens that have encircled me.
I know that I will perish,
And in the end, I slowly
Fade away to nothing.
The cycle has already started.
So I vow to end my life
After I commit a terrible sin,
A sin so terrible that
My soul will be damned to hell.
For there is malice in my
Deranged and warped mind.
I shall emerge from the darkness
After my fears subside,
And in a solemn, placid way,
I shall bring down the wrath
Of my anger—
For I am an angry god.
And I will cherish your death,
While I drink your blood for charity
To my selfish, greedy desires.
And then I will rip my heart out
Of my shallow bosom and die.
Then I will be shrouded,
Buried, and left for the
Worms to eat my remains.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline)
- Published: July 3rd, 2025 08:41
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem was written circa 1995, when I was the ripe old age of 17.
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Cheeky Missy, Poetic Licence, Damaso
Comments8
The anger of youth in this poem as well as violence. Even in metaphor it expounds force and the vigor of youth. Energetic and passionate it cries out.
Indeed. It was rip roaring that day. I can almost vivdly remember laying belly down on my twin-sized bed frantically scratching this into paper with my #2. Thank you, my dear friend, for your time and your feedback. Most appreciated! π₯ππ©ΈπΈοΈπ
If hunger and famine was not such a serious theme, that guy looks a bit under-fed there. Doh!
And then I make some weird comment - 'Oooh, not today, thank you; don't fancy the theme of that poem! lol.
I know, I know...turn the lights on! But it would kill the red hue! π€£
The energy is fearce it's a very very dark piece, brilliant, to say you wrote it as a young lad, I study the minds of young people and this says you had much talent, where that came from then, well you know, where you are today is a lesson to us all. πΉ Born to write.
Thank you so much, Teddy! I really appreciate your comment so much. I mean that. It has moved me and I thank you for your time and analysis. I was, indeed, very creative and, sadly, in a very dark place at the time. Honestly, I never left that really dark place until more recently. And, of course, given my mental health alphabet soup (MDD, GAD, TBI, mildly OCD, etc) that darkness never really fully goes away, but I am in a much better place now. Life is certainly a journey and poetry has been my way of navigating it. Again, I thank you so much, my dear friend. π₯ππ©ΈπΈοΈπ
The pent up anger of youth feeling violence might be the only way to express themselves or be heard, a raw and dark step inside a worried mind, enjoyed the read
Indeed my friend and, though I forgot to turn the lights on (Sorry Orchi π€£), I very much thank you for stepping in and journeying through! π₯ππ©ΈπΈοΈπ
You are very welcome
....so it wasn't buried, then? Cheered me up no end, Tristan.π
π€£ I know! I pulled this one right out of the Sesame Street side of me! π€ͺ
Well I'd recommend an amputation....πLOL
π€ͺ
This poem strikes like a tempest, capturing the raw, untamed turbulence of a young mind wrestling with profound darkness and emotion. Its vivid, visceral imagery reveals a struggle against inner shadows and a desperate search for control or release. Beneath the storm lies a haunting vulnerability; a voice grappling with despair, yet also reaching for acknowledgment and catharsis. This piece is a testament to the depths of human thought, where chaos and creativity intertwine, forging powerful and evocative expressions.
Thank you, my friend. You rock at drawing out the storm raging beneath the storm. Your reading feels like you stood in the same room as I wrote this. Chaos and creativity intertwining is exactly it. Thank you again. I am most grateful for your presence and your poetic eye. π₯ππ©ΈπΈοΈπ
It would be the perfect storm wherein poetry is born, the sheer poetry of chaos and the magical power of creativity ππ»ποΈ
Indeed! Like the big bang!π₯π
Dark and profound, I loved it
Why thank you, my friend. Glad that it delivered! π₯ππ©ΈπΈοΈπ
Must I turn up at every poem, to 'deface' them, to make inane comments on them, etc? - answer; yes! It's that old Orchi, says Fido. He don't care. He just barges in with any old rubbish. heehee.
And then he comes back for seconds. Who knows, maybe thirds! Fido's got his hands full with you and KP, I tell ya! LOL! π Love ya mate! Hope your day's rockin'...just don't fall over! π€ͺ
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