The room smells of whisky and dying poppies
As she falls to sleep, and the imp comes
On his black horse called Night
To destroy the maiden, she doesn't notice
She's dreaming of the white horse and brave knight
That will take her rose blossom dreams
But she'll never know the knight
Like the imp that's haunting her sleep.
A contest entry
- Dark picture inspiration anyone? by juliex-exotic shine.
700 points, ended April 25, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Wow
Your very good, this is great! .... I feel honored getting your review, after reading this. Humblily yours...
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ah well you have to look on the bright side, at least someone is interested in her and her dreams
a good poem.
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I love this. The imagery is just fantastic, especially in the opening line of "The room smells of whisky and dying poppies." "Rose blossom dreams" is another beautiful image. I love the atmosphere of this as well. Nice job.
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