The graveside shrine to all things dark and beautiful
Breathless Darkness is what I named my web-site. This is a quote from a poem entitled "Thanatopsis" by William Cullens Bryant. The poem is about death and uses, what I found to be, awesome metaphors to describe it. My favorite is the one where the author speaks of going into a tomb filled with breathless darkness. Calling death breathless darkness seems so fitting in a chilling, Edgar-wish-he-thought-of-it-first sort of way. Yeah well, I read too much. Anyway, I enjoy poetry like a freak. I mean like a beatnik, black turtleneck-wearing freak. I mean follow people around to ask them what they’re reading freak, I mean a total all out…You get the idea. Send me poetry on anything and I’ll post it up, along with some of my own. I will probably comment on the verses, so be prepared.
I fully intend to add more and better links and as much diverse poetry as my web space allows. Please be patient, this is only my first time at designing and creating "midnight entertainment."
Here is a collection of links that will *hopefully* appeal to your dark side.
http://www.gauthica.com/ --Lovely Graphics, wonderful account of the night life of Houston, their mail is screwed up though…
http://www.darklinks.com/--Interesting collection of, well, the name says it all….
More links than you can handle—One million of them so it says, but I never stopped to count
Numbers—Houston Night Club
Caverns of Blood--A site that makes mine look even more pathetic than it really is.Do you ever feel empty? Feel like the emptiness is eating you up inside?
A guy named Aaron Proctor--Basically some goth I've never heard of but found worth mentioning.
Gothic Babe of the Week--Very, Very, Very nice pictures
Flowers on a Razor Wire--You probably wouldn't understand anyway... At least the part about why I put it on my page, of all places.
More to come…
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"He has fallen into shadow..."
Verses of and for the Damned Titles in bold—Author’s Name Verses in gray, 
I shall not care
—Sara TeasdaleWhen I am dead and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain-drenched hair
Though you should lean above me broken-hearted
I shall not care
I shall have peace
As leafy trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough,
And I shall be more silent and more cold-hearted
Than you are now.
This is actually my favorite poem overall. And no, I didn’t write it.
Sara Teasdale happens to be a very famous poet; you can find her in any library
O it doth teach a heart to bleed
That which irony would seek fit to wrought
with her comical hands
a twist of fate so befitting
that the crimson tears that fell
from the soul should gather into
a chalice of bittersweet sympathy and become
A draught as cold as night
that, when poured, would join to form a
black pearl of hatred and loathing
which I would lay at her feet.
She, the one who betrayed me.
I found the picture really fits the poem.
More to come…
Weep for Me
When I am gone
When all the world
is dark and cold
And all the tears
that I have cried
are dried up in the desert of souls
And all the screams that I
have held silent are mere echoes in time
Weep for me
Let me know you care now
when all my life I was your shadow
dust upon your fine, ivory shoes
Scream for me when I am gone
To let yourself hear the clarity of your agony
Cry for me -so that your tears will drown out the sound
of their verbal attacks
Cry hard and Cry yourself to sleep
For sleep is the sweetest drug;
the deep sleep like a blanket of nothingness.
Oblivion at its finest
Adopt a Goth
