By Amanda Crundall Sunken eyes hidden within moonlight circles lost in a viral haze Replicating fast uncontrolled powerful strain on the living Nailing coffins in the already dead they just didn't know #DarkPoetsClub #DarkHumourBitterIrony

By Selven Raine I wait for the drops of rain To wash away my... paper boat What? Did you actually believe I was going to master some brilliant metaphor? I never do And when I do... I don’t. I wait for the first light of morning Or perhaps a higher entity could light the way and show me where I’m going As I said I am not one to be profound It is merely that I am drunk... And this appears to be an unsteady ground I wait... for my prince charming Galloping on white horse My sav

By Eleanor Carpenter Patter-scratch it went, up one leg, deviant stroke of silk on fur, before a nightmare skirmish of claw and tail in my sleeping man’s nethers. Next day, there it was, with soulless fish-egg eyes and pink hand-paws, awaiting me. Before I could scream— its eyes bulged marbly, nose distended shrewish, legs unfolded roo-ish, jaws voided—oh, oh, oh— an undead soprano. In its own echo it withdrew, under my skirting. No sign for weeks and then—snap— the trap!