Born 12/28/98, Jared (AKA: Black Silver) is a young, new poet, intent on making his mark on the world by expressing his thoughts and emotions through the beauty of poetry. His 2 greatest inspirations are Arik Fletcher, whom he discovered on Poem Hunter, and Emily Dickenson, world famous poet. Every one of Jared's poems are written based on how he feels at the time; so when you read his poems, you... more »
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- The Eastern Promise -new-
Jared Woods Poems
Darkness. What is Darkness, But a thing of Beauty. Something few
Star light, Star bright, First star I see tonight,
My Land of Black and White
I wander on and on in my land of black and white; Trapped in endless shadow, praying for a bit of light. There are others here; I've seen them, as they travel through my void,
The Eastern Promise -new-
I can hear the wind as it blows from the East. The trees sway left and right
What It's Like
What is it like to Die? I have Often heard it; The Question that presents Morbidity itself.
Her smile is wide, Her words are full of bliss; Yet every night she cries Over scarlet-stained-wrists.
I woke one night, around midnight, To voices calling faintly; The moon was full, and shinning bright, So onward I walked bravely.
She walks Over grey fields and dark forests Where the black birds sing and the timid dear roam.
Tell me now, oh tell me please, The most beautiful thing that you know? Was it when pain and misery cease? Was it the time that you saw love glow?
I stare into the Blueness, Where meets the Sky and Sea. The Waves are soft and Soothing, The waves; they call to Me.
I lie here in tranquility, The shadows watching, haunting me, Altering my destiny, Like waves that shift across the sea.
Black as night, dark as death, Colder than my very breath. Smooth as silk yet hard as stone, Piercing me, clean through my bone.
Comments about Jared Woods
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
What is Darkness,
But a thing of Beauty.
Will ever Learn?
Most would say,
If you were to ask Them,
Dwell within the Shadows.
I do not Believe them,
Because that is what They are:
Is where I Live.
It is my Family
That is my Gift from God;
I am Darkness, and
Darkness is Me.
I am no longer alone.
What a thing of Beauty;