- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Typemare
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Typemare
Weaving stories in my mind
Of darkness, evil, deeds unkind,
Demons stomping through the Earth,
Laughing in a soulless mirth.
Creatures from the id, it seems,
Escape without the aid of dreams.
Or have they just become so bold
They slip from out subconscious hold?
What if the words I sometimes write
Were mystic runes instead of type,
And I called into this life
A thing of dour relentless strife?
A beast of old and fiendish ways
Who will haunt me all my days,
Steal my soul and bend my will
So I will scream and stalk and kill!
Telling tales I hold too dear,
And my most horrific fear
Is I'll submerge into my work;
Reality will fade to murk.
Against insanity, I pray,
To exorcise these ghosts away.
That all such monstrous ilk be pent
Imprisoned in a page of print.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 17 years agoWere you listining to Knights in White Satin when you wrote this? I mean that as a compliment.Well done!
LeBrozabout 18 years agoWelcome to Lit
With your first submits;
Not a bad first try
With the world of rhyme
(Which is always a tough write to pull off, without seeming too contrived).
