Alternatively, my drug-addled, vulnerable brain is seduced by dark corners of the internet.
One such threshold across which I recently stumbled?
The Goth-O-Matic Poetry Generator
That’s right!
Now we all can generate the Gothic Poems of our darkest, angstiest, nightmares with such ease that even the most drug-addled among us can achieve astounding literary success!
Here are a couple of my recent efforts, aided by the The Goth-O-Matic Poetry Generator, combined with my images of a gothic nature made in our own local Gothic Paradise, Crown Hill Cemetery, in Indianapolis, Indiana.
Darkness Descends
The night falls as if slain by the sun, cold and alone are we.
The salvation for which you sacrifice yourself
flares once, then dies, smothered by madness
all hope must surely perish.
Your being craves no more.
How could you leave me?
Our darkest thoughts surround us, crying, we have lost our light.
***
Imprisoned
Slender beams of illumination enter this darkened
place as I kneel, always fearful, always
despairing, frozen here, waiting.
Tortured forms
wrought in panes of glass loom as dust dances,
forming an image in my mind,
penetrating my shamed flesh.
Realization dawning on a deathless face.
I raise my head, now
kneeling before this callous salvation.
***
Consumed
What have you ruined?
A miasma of agony
as commiserations writhe.
Once we drank of innocence, virginal and childlike, but your desire paled, a deadened morass of agony —
drops of blood follow bone, follow death,
love withered.
In a haze of sorrow, I see you.
***
BwaHaHaHa!
