It Seems That All One Has To Do To Create Gothic-Style Poetry Is To Submit Ideas To A Generator

I feel:: bouncy


It is a night of ethereal pain, a song of subtlety,
wolves vent their loneliness. The thirsting one

Mist shrouds her pale form,
an impatient desire.

Her silken hair cascades over
translucent ivory shoulders, and her
full scarlet lips part slightly, to taste the
vitae streaming from the
pale flesh beneath

Now a night of ecstasy,
I weep.


Slender beams of accusation enter
this darkened chamber as I kneel,
always supplicating, always driven,
frozen here,

Tortured forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
rending my naked soul.

Blood on a deathless face.

I raise my head, now crying out for
this airy Heaven.

  • Goth-O-Matic Poetry Generator

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