Languid screams resonate forcefully, through vague voids.
Fading away into a
*Drip*
Flooding the twosome tinkling glasses
Bright red love portion
Or is it… Raw Bitter Bloody Blood?
Drinking it in tiny gulps.
He relishes every drop.
The last drop plays around his tongue.
Like a luscious sweet petal of sin.
Like the sweet anguished symphony of a thousand violins.
Like a delirious whisper of a weakling that’s become a prey to the mighty beast.
As the last one goes down the throat…
I write my life down on a napkin
Put it down on the table
He wipes his mouth with it.
The words go awry.
posted by J @ 10:57 am
Comments: 10
10 Comments:
I wondered, What's wrong with me ?
What's going to happen to me ?
How can I go on ?
Without acceptable treatment,
I later became much worse...
did Vampires struck you ;) ...
Nice flow. :)
the awry words red now
drip drip to the floor
coalesce
rise like hoods of serpents
blood words rise and strike
b r i l l i a n t
It's got a haunting refrain!! Nice.
Free Verse can be so liberating. I can't seem to get my obsession for rhyme schemes out of my poems.
Nice one J !!! You are a very creative girl I must say.
wow!!!!
thats gory alright :)
and, a new pome awaits the fingers of a stealthy writer. hoping to weave some magic. like a hound in black eyes.
write
hmm
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