Free verse № 143544
Descendent
Great gothic goddess birthed me.
I am living terror, see.
My gnashing quarrel bloodies the streets.
I find joy in manic feats.
For whatever end that fits my rage
Hellspawn I engage.
Eyes are those blackened eyes exchanged.
These mouths, strange.
Whatever damning, faraway curse I endure.
Comes in sunlight's pure.
Willing me to spell fate is my undoing
A catastrophe brewing.
I'll be sent oh so rapidly beneath.
I'll cut my teeth.
Awaiting the eternity of future sorrow.
Apocalypse on the morrow.
5 comments
You get spurts of rythm going, then lose it.
drop 'the' @ streets...that line's a tongue twister.
willing me to spell...?to cast spells?, and fate is my undoing? is that what is meant there? all as one sentence it doesn't make sense. I can see this written on a subway wall somewhere...
The poem's not much good either.
Also, I was just very lazy with the punctuation. I don't even know why I bothered.
I'm glad you were displeased by the quality of this poem.
It wasn't written to your liking (thank god).
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