What could be more fun or more lyrical then poems about nightmares? Here are a few scary ballads for you. We hope the lines written here inspire the darker side of your imagination and fire your creativity.
Nightmare Vision, a poem
by Paul Bearer
there is a voice singing.
For a moment in time
everything else is frozen
except for the voice.
Spelled out before
in blood on the floor
is the God given truth
made as clear as an instant.
Bat wings flap wildly
they’re all around me—
creatures of night,
that stretch their existence
far back, to a time before time.
My intellect falters and my heart fails
and all that’s left of me
is rivulets of pure fear.
Smoke rises and dances around me,
and then disintegrates into the night.
I find a ghost now sits beside me.
He says, “I am the ghost of yesterday,
but I hold tomorrow in my hand.”
I reach for the future,
but he snatches it away from me.
His movement is like a breathe
of cold air, a slap across the face—
it leaves me with a hallow feeling.
I sit frozen, a single touch
would shatter me.
Nightmares, a poem
by Marya Ophir
that come in the night like assassins,
that take you by surprise with the knife,
that seize you from behind and drop you.
of alabaster dolls thrown off tall cliffs
smashing against the rocks
their dust swept up by the sea.
of thunder that booms in your ears
shattering your fragile glass brain
bloody shards in soft white tissues.
of you holding the line, forever
disconnected, wavering at the border
between what is sane and what is not.
on the spur of a moment, gone in the next,
the hazy fog of a gurgled realization
that time has left you far behind.
of words that pop out from you automatically,
you can’t control them, they are a madness,
not your words, but the words of the possessed.
Nightmare Images, a poem
by Eclectic Minstrel
in the darkness behind me.
Whispering winds chatter
Your skin is as pale
as the moon.
Your lips, a shade
of lurid blue.
His chain clangors
and the sound mingles
the flaps of endless black crows
as the claw and screech
gentle moans —
out of all the old mouse holes
scattered around the house.
A gibbet swings in the sullen winds
while drizzle falls on old bones
grown green with moss.
Nightmares exist outside of logic, and there’s little fun to be had in explanations; they’re antithetical to the poetry of fear.
― Stephen King
Nightmares are releases.
— Sylvia Browne
We hope you enjoyed the sinister poems full of dark visions. Dreams can be fun, but it’s not always easy when they turn into nightmares. Still even our darkest phantasms sometimes still reveal hidden aspects about our own souls. We hope you found these creepy poems insightful.
Don’t miss any of our poems, go to the sidebar and follow Shadow of Iris!