Angelica St. Darke
Angelica St. Darke Poems
Her ruby red lips now mottled with blue. The face that once mocked falls silent and still.
Her long shiny locks all matted and dank, near perfect skin drained of life shaded grey.
...
He sits alone, a lost soul, long since detached from society.
Welcoming the darkness to hide in its shadows.
Clinging to the fringes of sanity.
Destroyed by endless pressures he watches as the walls edge closer in,
...
Cruel deep scars forever shall reign, deliberately contrived actions deployed with such skill.
Lie allowing lips move freely, no shame!
Strong emotive feelings potrayed through deceit, bringing dishonour to all that you meet.
Smelling a sense of immanence this event will unfold.
...
This mask I wear is not to protect my own skin.
Precariously balanced above my once smile, now grim.
Lips sewn shut tight, eyes so alive, vibrant with fright.
The mask I wear rids me of pride, confidence lost, spirit has died.
...
Angelica St. Darke Biography
Random ramblings and inspired imagination by me 'Angelica St. Darke' exploring my new-found passion for writing poetry. I love to let my mind run wild. I find writing an amazing way to relax and escape from the reality for a while. I may appear bemused and overwhelmed at times but luckily my enthusiastic optimism drives me to be the fanatical fantasist that I am!)
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Her ruby red lips now mottled with blue. The face that once mocked falls silent and still.
Her long shiny locks all matted and dank, near perfect skin drained of life shaded grey.
The depths of her eyes bore deep in to her soul, window left open yet no flicker of light.
Cold remnants of heart presenting no fresh clarity.
Her shameful disgrace so crude and obscene, exiled from kin no chance for return.
Lingering unrest resides thick in the air, assumed liberation from this mortal coil.
She lies poised, tainted by the radiance of corpse, consumed by the sweet sickly aroma of decay.
Death boasts the darkest of attractions she'd thought, her nightmare life In death set free.
Foreseeing new hopes for forgiveness and peace, her status renewed amongst the realms of deceit.
But death does not beckon her on this night nor the next, no place to repent no redemption found here.
To late to turn back path long since closed, eternal damnation now all that is posed.
Angelica St. Darke Comments
Thank you. Your poem really hit home; that is exactly how I feel. (Acquiescence)
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4/26/2024 2:29:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I'm new at this so bare with me. Thank you for your critic. Your poem really hit home; that is exactly how I feel. (ACQUIESCENCE)