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~~SNARING ROOTS~~
Silver moon, and tattered clouds
floating in the nighttime sky.
Bats, with ragged, flapping shrouds
across the darkened country fly.
But now, upon horizons dim,
wispy mountains, jutting high.
Dark, foreboding, ghastly, grim.
The shining moonlight seems to die.
Howling wind and pounding rain.
Roaring storms with awesome force.
Blinding, biting tearing pain.
The inner maelstrom runs its course.
Twisted thoughts now fill his head,
evil things send tendrils deep.
Has he become the living dead?
Or is he lost in solemn sleep?
His veins are burning now white-hot.
His heart a fearsome tempo beats.
His former feelings now forgot,
he prowls the darkened cobble streets.
He now arrives at hour late.
Witching time, as legends tell.
He steels himself, turns towards his fate.
His evil lusts enrich the spell.
He grips the edge in sweaty fist.
Heartless steel of icy death.
He turns the knob with careful twist.
He enters the house without a breath.
He roams the halls, a specter pale,
quickly climbing creaking stairs.
Spirit fierce, while body frail.
He passes a mirror, stops, and glares.
He loathes the one he sees inside;
The cowardly shell of who he was.
Gone his trust, his faith, his pride.
His shameful creed, "I did it because...."
He takes a breath and turns away,
walks now forward, nerves on end.
The evil seed now has full sway.
His own weak spirit has to bend.
He finds her now, bewitched by dreams.
He peaceful breathing, soft and sweet.
He raises knife, now metal gleams.
Flesh and edge, now do they meet.
A crimson stain now on his cheek.
A copper stench now fills the air.
He slowly sinks, he cannot speak.
For his own life, he does not care.
His dagger he lofts true and straight.
The evil seed has lost its hold.
Another second does not he wait.
He now falls lifeless, stiff and cold.
Well, I kind of got the idea for this poem from a poem that I co-wrote with my friend, nigh on eight months ago. It has a similar premise, a man is overcome by emotion, and kills a woman. The poems were both written to keep the reader guessing a little, and to let them fill in the holes as they see fit. Why did he kill her? Was she his wife, lover, or someone else? These kind of things are left ambiguous for the sole purpose of making it more intellectual for the reader. The way that this one differs from the one I co-wrote, is that this one focuses more on the metaphorical "evil seed" in the man, and how it warps his entire perception of life, partially revealed in the mirror segment. Sadly, though, this is the last poem that I have prepared at the time, so I will get to work right away on writing some more. I rather like this creepy sort of style, and I'll see if I can't cook another one up. Thanks for reading! Post comments in white or a light color so I can read them! Fin...
 Kona_Yuki1792 · Wed Aug 22, 2007 @ 06:24am · 1 Comments |
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