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Poetic Occult https://www.inkitt.com/stories/mystery/860266

My book Poetic Crime (Serial Killers & True Crime) https://www.booksie.com/665544-poetic-crime-serial-killers-and-true-crime

River Crossing Take me to a dark place where stone-blind bats see and ravaging rodents nest and a single candle's glow is swallowed by the void. Take me to a dark space where spiritless sleep cocoon's my heavy limbs curling into a tight sphere so no one will notice me. Take me to that dark place where the suspended bridge from the living to the dead is camouflaged by river mist and I can cross unimpeded. .~~~ Judi Van Gorder Revised 3-28-19 Original

Goth or Dark Poetry This is pretty self explanatory, Goth or Dark Poetry is mood poetry. The frame of this unsettling genre is at the discretion of the poet and can range from ballad to ode to villanelle and all before, after and inbetween. Eerie, spooky, creepy, depressive themes delivered in heavy, dark words have full range. Hopefully chills will creep up the reader's spine upon reading. A classic example is Edgar Allen Poe's Anabelle Lee. (a Pindaric Ode) I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love- I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepluchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me- Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we- Of many far wiser than we- And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride, In the sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea.