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Deep cuts on my arms I don't recognize Days slept while campaigns waged Phantoms dancing before my eyes Behind which battles raged A succubus hath robbed my dreams Leaving lauguid minds and turgid joints For walkers in the night are we And dreams served as poisoned points So now I brood with misty eyes My vengence self-assured I rub the paths of talon's scrye A demon's wrath incurred. My heart sings ballads of blood and fire My bed a warzone with wreckage clear She came upon me in hot desire And betrayed me leaving fear. Succubus you leave me spent Restbroken, mouth filled with bile All those cursed dreams your master sent And all I remember is your cursed smile. |
I've just commented on someone else's hangover, which seemed...hung over? Not bad poetry, just not right. Yours on the other hand does not linger on the morning after, the allusions are intriguing and one wonders what is real and what is part of a dream still continuing. GREAT work this! Originalty redefined.| Posted on 2004-06-22 00:00:00 | by Lelik | [ Reply to This ] | I liked this. You used some nice wording and good imagery/descriptive details. I also thought the flow in this piece was pretty consistent. Nice job :) | | Posted on 2004-06-20 00:00:00 | by melancholystar | [ Reply to This ] | hmm...this reminds me of my own harrowing encounter with an evil woman...with a cursed smile. Could it be the same unwanted visiter? I doubt it, at least she left you enough to write a good poem...the rhyming actually fit, wasn't forced or trite...hopefully your heart will sing something other than ballads other than blood and fire | | Posted on 2004-06-20 00:00:00 | by LadyChaos | [ Reply to This ] | |