Thunderous Trumpets Blew

Grieving man kneels at a grave as doves fly upward and fiery trumpets blaze in a dark sky

Have you ever whispered love into the dark while God whispered it back?

Within your eyes, the fires of Hell burned fierce
while Heaven’s thunderous trumpets blew.
We reminisced, in vain, to pause the years,
but He travelled through the clouds to save you.

While you slept, you were never left alone;
I whispered your sweet name within the dark.
While I embraced you tight, God took you home;
I kissed your soul and freed your weary heart.

I slept with our lost past and blue tears fell;
My heart released white doves above your grave.
The brightest star to sparkle on my Hell;
I knew the secret hiding you were brave.

—H, For those we hold through the letting go

Whispers from the Wound: More Grief Poems to Mourn…

A grieving man kneels on a bridge surrounded by scattered chess pieces, while ghostly figures speak behind him and a glowing silhouette waits in the distance

I Ceased to Be Seen

A haunting poem of grief, invisibility and emotional exile. After the death of a singular connection, one speaker watches themselves fade from a world too distracted to care.

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A shadowy figure looms over a child's empty bed on Christmas Eve, with a faintly glowing tree in the corner

The Night Everything Broke

A quiet, devastating lyric poem about a boy witnessing the moment his family began to fall apart. Christmas Eve brings not comfort, but the first tremor of lifelong grief.

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Gothic vampire feeding on a victim under a full moon, with a looming werewolf in the shadows.

When Blood Calls to the Moon

A Gothic horror poem where bloodlust and moonlight intertwine — when death becomes both a prison and a dark seduction.

Read the Full Whisper →

Whispers in Meter: More Sonnets to Unfold…

A boy with bound hands kneels alone beneath a red moon, while distant figures dance along the shoreline.

Bound in Darkness

A blood-stained sonnet of abuse and survival, told beneath the Celtic moon. A cry from the dark, where no one listened, not even God.

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a young man and a horned demon face each other in a dimly lit scene, the demon offering a glowing hand mirror

Delicious Sins and the Devil’s Whisper

He was the first to offer me to darkness, wrapped in the tongue of devils and clothed in unsung beauty. The saints looked away as demons drank deeply, while false freedom spoke in poisoned hymns. I vanished into echoes—faith shattered, innocence devoured.

Read the Full Whisper →
Gothic vampire feeding on a victim under a full moon, with a looming werewolf in the shadows.

When Blood Calls to the Moon

A Gothic horror poem where bloodlust and moonlight intertwine — when death becomes both a prison and a dark seduction.

Read the Full Whisper →