general · mine · poetry

Poem: Dark Side of a Heart

I think it’s been long since established that it is more or less impossible for me to write ‘happy’ poetry – exceptions do occur (the last one was essentially positive, f.ex.), but mainly my poems are all about sad things and topics. Well, why not embrace it to the max and try to write as many horribly pessimistic poems as possible! Right?

Maybe not exactly, since I get rather excited over each and every poem I manage to produce, especially at times like this, when I barely have the energy to lift my bones from the sofa to put more wood on the fireplace… (I miss the sun.) But I have indeed stopped caring about this particular fact, and just aim to write whatever wants to be written. It’s so difficult to actually try to write something, when something else would come much more naturally, without even trying.

I basically also stopped caring about the fact that hardly anyone cares about my poetry, so whatever I post here will be for my own personal enjoyment and so on and so on.

Well, anyways, here is a poem I’ve been wanting to write for a while, but the only piece I’ve had ready has been the title. I know it might not be as clear as some other poems I’ve posted recently, but that might just be premeditated, so deal with it.

Dark Side of a Heart

Like the clock my heart changes,
from one to two; to three –
with these hazy eyes, by now,
I’m starting not to see.
The night grows longer, harder – dark;
these thoughts – like shadows – circle me,
and through the fear inside
I’m starting not to see.

When daylight slowly fades
and everything gets dark,
I have ghosts inside my head;
the dark side of a heart
still keeping me awake, and torture
pressing on my soul; pain; sharp.
I pray it let me sleep tonight,
the dark side of a heart.


2 thoughts on “Poem: Dark Side of a Heart

  1. People are becoming jerks nowadays, they only “like” pictures of cute things and social pictures (although I do these also myself) and they don’t care about the arts anymore.. It’s strange how, with the internet, people’s brains are turning to mush at the same time as possessing infinite knowledge. Strange turnabout of the century: one of the greatest inventions ever made (the internet) and it being put, in part, into the wrong hands (this recent generation)…

    Can relate on the poem, btw, I like it, it’s very good.

    1. I know, right?
      I’m not saying I’d rather have lived in the Romantic or Victorian period or anything, but it would be nicer if people had the same kind of respect for literature they had back then…

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