I hold a rose
as black as night
upon my chest.
Sleep I must
till blood moon's rise
when blood shall be splattered
onto grounds snow.
Alas the rose is withering
counting down the time
when moon shall rise
and fear will be renewed
as I sprout my wings
and feed off blood
of humans many.
They see my fangs
and run in fright
of a beast they see
but one does not run.
She stands in fright
with a rose red,
she shakes and shivers,
with numb hands
she drops the rose
as red pours down her neck
and she girggles last breath.
I have awoken
and will never sleep again.
A contest entry
- I've Been Thinking (ya I know thats scary) by kistoclou.
900 points, ended November 4, 26 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
Sry
Sry I can barely read this, it was good though from what I could read. I liked the metaphors that I could read. loved the back ground, just not the type color. -
I like how shuttle and sweet you put this poem. it had a innocents about.
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