My Poetry is Dark

 

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Tonight, I shall rip my mind
bifurcating like thin veins
for I see hot wax resting
on my body,
for I am lips and lips of shooting fire
tonight, I shall cry
and vomit my parched pain
like shattered poppies
lying in the coffin
for dark is my home
dark is my poetry
the inside of poetry is me,
and I am dark as Satan’s eye.

Β©My Valiant Soul


37 thoughts on “My Poetry is Dark

  1. Then Satan must be the most beautiful colour for your dark poetry is some of the best you write. I love the images of splitting the mind and vomiting the pain. I also love the darkness of shattered poppies, flowers that have become the symbol of remembrance for those who have lost lives in war. Flowers that now grow where some of the darkest cruelties were played out – the death of thousands of human souls. I think you write yourself so well in darkness. Beautiful writing, Devika!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I know how dark it might sound and it was actually the same in my mind.
      Your connotations are as always superb.
      To be precise, my poetries are mainly dark so I thought to give it a tititle likewise.
      Thank You for such a deep and correct evaluationn. Always a pleasure to have you, Alex!

      Liked by 2 people

  2. You go where most fear to tread,
    How will we know the light without knowing the darkess within.
    You embrace both with such passion and voraciousness!
    Thank you for pouring yourself out for us to partake of,
    And giving many encouragement to not be afraid to fully express themselves 😊🌸

    Liked by 1 person

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