My eyeshadow vaporizes into poison of the night,
Slowly terrorizing the watcher and his invisible basic right.
How ironic it is to have an insane phobia yet feel simply human,
With time standing still, the noise of a crimson candles wick ablaze, will illumine.
The diary of a damp moth, lays buried under rotted wood, and autumn leaves,
For what was once an optimistic beautiful creature, is now the one who will deny it's living mind and what it believes.
Author notes
Option 5.
"Flick My Bick"
A contest entry
- Choose Your Fate by Saree Wynter.
600 points, ended July 13, 2007, 8 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Congratulations on the win, this is awesome.
♥
whisper
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Thank you so much!
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I agree
Yes this poem is very good .... I like the moth part as well. Great Write Good Luck
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Excellent
Wow this is really good I love the part about the diary of a damp moth thats i dont know its just wow. Excellent write and best of luck to you in the contest.
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