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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: obsession

  • Sanctum of Sin | Neo-Gothic Confessional Romanticism by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Sanctum of Sin was originally written on May 16th, 2025, and polished on December 16th, 2025. This piece is part of my ongoing exploration of Neo‑Gothic Confessional Romanticism—where intimacy, devotion, shadow, and sacred rebellion collide. It is not about ownership, but about chosen connection; not about religion, but about ritual; not about sin, but about the holiness we find in places the world tells us to hide.

    Gothic bedroom with candlelight and shadows, silhouettes of two figures embracing, evoking intimacy and ritualistic devotion.
    Sanctum of Sin visualized: a shadowed embrace amidst candlelight, capturing the sacred intimacy and ritualistic devotion of Rowan Evans’ Neo-Gothic Confessional Romanticism.

    Sanctum of Sin
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I never wanted heaven.
    I wanted her.

    Eyes like unholy sacraments,
    fingertips dipped in blood and honey,
    a laugh that makes holy water boil,
    and my knees hit the floor
    with gratitude.

    She is my altar and my undoing,
    my blasphemy made flesh.

    Let the angels weep—
    I never asked for salvation.
    Only the weight of her thighs
    and the way her wickedness
    matches mine in every grin-shaped curse.

    We don’t light candles.
    We set fires.
    We hex the night with pleasure
    and whisper dirty prayers
    until the moon blushes
    and turns her face away.

    I keep a vial of her voice
    around my neck,
    a charm against the dull ache
    of anyone else’s touch.
    And when she says she’s tired—
    oh darling,
    we’ll make exhaustion holy.

    I’ll drain the stars
    just to pour her a bath in darkness.
    I’ll mark her spine with sigils
    only I know how to read.

    Every spell begins with her name,
    every climax a ritual,
    every kiss a blood oath
    demanding loyalty
    even in our ruin.

    Let them call us monsters.
    We’ll show them how gods are made—
    not in temples,
    but in tangled sheets
    and shared laughter
    over the graves of those who hurt us.

    No past can dim the light we forge.
    Every scar, every memory,
    becomes gold in the fire of our nights.
    We rise, tender in our ruin,
    untouchable, untamed, unbroken.

    Because she is mine now—
    not owned, but chosen.
    Not tamed, but trusted.
    And I am hers.
    Ruthlessly.
    Completely.
    Beautifully doomed.

    So let the world burn.

    We’ll dance in the embers.
    We’ll write new psalms in spit and sweat.
    We’ll worship only each other—
    in shadow,
    in sin,
    in sanctum.

    More poetry here! [The Library of Ashes]

  • Under My Skin – A Neo-Gothic Poem of Desire, Spellwork & Devotion

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Under My Skin is a celebration of the magnetic, uncontainable energy that captivates and lingers. It’s about someone who burrows into your bones, ignites your imagination, and refuses to be tamed—someone whose presence is both a spell and a fire. This poem honors that intoxicating pull, the way desire can intertwine with admiration, and the beauty of surrendering to a force that refuses to be ignored.

    Portrait of a mysterious woman with witchy, gothic energy surrounded by smoke and candlelit shadows.
    A witchy, neo-gothic muse — the energy that slips under the skin and refuses to let go.

    Under My Skin
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    She’s got that,
    witchy ‘n’ bitchy energy—
    I love that.

    She hexes me
    when she texts me—
    in the best way.

    She is—
    under my skin,
    in my lungs,
    deep within the marrow,
    burrowed in my brain.

    My heart? (Thump-thump)
    It beats for her.
    My mind?
    It dreams of her
    the moment my eyes close.

    She lingers—
    a spell I never want broken,
    a fire I never want tamed.

    If you want to see the full range of what I write, and discover the full breadth of my poetry in The Library of Ashes—an archive of ink-stained devotion, dark petals, and threshold poems that linger long after the last candle flickers. Visit The Library of Ashes →

  • Muse of Mayhem – Dark Neo-Gothic Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    If you know me in real life and you read this… no the fuck you didn’t.

    Author’s Note

    There’s something about her that disarms me. A magnetism wrapped in mayhem—smirks and spells and unapologetic fire. I didn’t mean to be drawn in like this. Didn’t mean to find arousal in her chaos or reverence in her rage. But here I am, offering myself like a willing sacrifice—not for her approval, not even for love, but because she moves something in me. She reflects the darkest, most delicious corners of my soul—the ones I’ve spent a lifetime hiding, or worse… watering down.

    When she said she wanted him to watch her fuck another man, smiling the whole time, I didn’t hesitate. I volunteered. Not just because it turned me on (though it absolutely did), but because in that moment, I wanted to be her weapon. Her ritual. Her revenge.

    It’s not just the fantasy. It’s her. The way she owns herself—raw, untamed, unfiltered. She feels like a mirror made of fire.

    And maybe…

    Just maybe…

    I’ve always been a little flammable.

    Gothic portrait of a powerful, seductive woman standing in a shadowy garden with flickering flames and starlight in the background, representing chaos and desire.
    “The Muse of Mayhem: fury, desire, and chaos embodied in one magnetic figure.”

    Muse of Mayhem
    Poetry by Rowan Evans
    (Written May 16th, 2025)

    She laughs, and the world wilts—
    a garden set ablaze by a careless smile.
    I swear the shadows lean closer
    just to hear her whisper curses
    with venom on her tongue
    and starlight in her eyes.

    She is fury made flesh,
    a witch with war in her hips,
    and I—
    I volunteer as tribute.

    While you spoke of
    watching him gasp his last breath
    in bitter silence,
    I was biting my lip in awe,
    moaning at the sight of your wrath—
    divine, deliberate,
    beautiful.

    You said you’d fuck another man
    while making him watch.
    You smiled.
    I offered my body
    like a knife to your altar.
    Burn me,
    bury me,
    brand me—
    I’ll still crawl back,
    hungry for more.

    No one’s ever mirrored
    my taste for chaos
    with such elegance,
    no one’s ever made me feel
    so seen
    in my darkness.
    You speak,
    and I turn to ash
    willingly.

    Muse of mayhem,
    witch of want,
    curse me with your presence again—
    I’ll beg.
    I’ll bleed.
    I’ll write you
    into every forbidden stanza
    until even the moon
    blushes at your name.

  • What I Want – A Neo-Gothic Confessional Romanticism Poem by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    This piece is an exploration of desire, of the magnetic pull between chaos and devotion. It is written in honor of those who ignite us, who challenge us, and who hold us accountable in ways that leave scars both tender and divine. Every line is a confession, every breath a vow, every bruise a benediction.

    Gothic-inspired shadowed figure reaching forward through curling smoke and sparks of fire, evoking intimacy, chaos, and desire.
    What I Want – Desire, chaos, and devotion intertwined in flame and shadow.

    Invocation
    Summoning the Desire

    I call upon the fires of longing,
    the shadows that linger in the spaces between heartbeats,
    and the voices that speak in whispers and hisses.
    May the chaos I carry find its mirror,
    may the storms I summon meet their echo,
    and may the flame of desire be both fierce and tender,
    untamed yet intimate.

    What I Want
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I want somebody who bites, sparks, ignites—
    lips like razors, tongue like a whip in the night.
    Pulls me close, lets me fall,
    then laughs while catching me before I hit the hall, all right?

    Somebody who claws, claims me: Mine, line by line,
    a hissed whisper curling like smoke along my spine.
    Jealousy sharp, playful, a sting not cruel,
    possessive enough to bend the room, break every rule.

    Hands that push, pull, press, then soothe,
    hands that punish, prove, make me move.
    Fire and care that twist, entwine,
    bruises bloom deep—pain turned divine.

    A voice that teases, twists, commands,
    knows my edges, my pulses, my hands.
    A storm that lingers, a lullaby that bites,
    a thief of breath, a ruler of nights.

    Somebody who counts the chaos I bring,
    marks my mischief, tames my sting.
    Drags me into madness, drags me in deep,
    wraps me in silk, drags me close to keep.

    Eyes that glitter, fingers that trace,
    heat that flickers across every space.
    A fire that grips the weight of my chest,
    makes my pulse race, refuses rest.

    And when night thins, the world dissolves,
    I want that echo I can’t resolve:
    You are mine. Always mine.
    A claim, a tease, a bite, a sign—
    my chaos captured in your flicker of fire,
    my storm mirrored, my pulse inspired.

    Benediction
    Dark Benediction of the Heart

    May those who read these words feel the fire of their own desire,
    may the shadows we summon be gentle yet insistent,
    and may every heart that beats with chaos
    also find solace in the warmth of the untamed flame.

    Journey into the Hexverse

    Enter desire, chaos, and devotion. From Rowan Evans’ intimate Shadowed Addiction to HxNightshade’s feral Feral Cathedral and B.D. Nightshade’s fractured Through the Shattered Glass, surrender to the Hexverse and let every pulse and whisper pull you deeper.

    Triple Poetic Devotion | Rowan Evans, HxNightshade & B.D. Nightshade
    Three haunting voices, one pulse of devotion and desire. Rowan Evans, HxNightshade, and B.D. Nightshade explore pain, love, and surrender in minimalist, evocative verse.

    Through the Shattered Glass: Before the Glass Shattered | B.D. Nightshade
    Before the glass shatters, shadows linger and memories twist. Discover the haunting prelude to B.D. Nightshade’s “Through the Shattered Glass” series—where ordinary moments become portals to fractured realities.

    Shadowed Addiction | Rowan Evans
    A brief, intimate dive into desire, longing, and emotional darkness. Shadowed Addiction fuses minimalist expression with confessional intensity, weaving English and Tagalog for a sharp, personal resonance.

    Feral Cathedral | HxNightshade
    Dive into the raw, feral worship of desire in Feral Cathedral. A hymn to hunger, chaos, and devotion—where teeth, breath, and pulse become sacred.