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Dear child, I, shadow, Deliver a fortune of despair. The light in the horizon begins to fade. The darkness will swallow your world, Your soul. Engulfed by an enternal night, Everything once bright, Will decay in black. Dear child, Forsaken you are, A king you will become, To reign over death itself, Knife at your wrists. A queens face pierces through mist. Upon your realm a fire sparks... Her face withers as ash. No others shall lie with a king of a kingdom of a self. Poor child, Lost you will become, Stagger in silence And understand emptiness. Dear child, Sit upon a throne, Knife at your wrists. Become sated with the mysteries of shadow, Realize the secrets hidden in the abyss. O, what a wise king I will be. |
This poem is hilarious! i enjoy it. It is quite a bit too emo for my tastes, but HELL who doesn't like to mope? It's contents are full of tears and it's freeverse, yet archiac style leave much to be desired. It is entertaining to play with your words. The beginning of each stanza is "dear, dear, poor dear...." I see that as somewhat amusing. Indeed strange, unless intentional, because it seems as if the whole of your poem could be summed up to those words. I would also suggest in this poem, if you rearranged the stanzas. I get the fact that you are "looking back" and what not, however the effect is not prominent. I would simply change the first stanza to the last stanza. Quite a hilarious poem indeed.| Posted on 2007-06-29 00:00:00 | by Old | [ Reply to This ] | |