The eyes in the walls used to make me sick
The smoke and mirrors blown through my body
Spoke of mistrust and an inside out perspective
The universe kissed my hand and called me king
But the moon sank her teeth in
Wicked mice with a ravenous appetite
Fed upon my heart and brain
Splitting the night with the roar of frailty
And cries of "Murder" and "Amen"
And the owl with no father counted the hours down
And hissed at the white heart beating on the ground
Upon my grave no tears will fall
For the shadowman has no kin to speak of
Author notes
MessedupMarionette: I used option 2. It's inspired by Macbeth, in case nobody noticed
A contest entry
- Like Strands of Fist and Bone by Saint Gut-Free.
600 points, ended October 7, 2007, 29 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I love where you took this title. This is exactly the kind of thing I was looking for with the titles option- completely unexpected, original interpretations. You've written this so beautifully. You have so many ominous lines that're so fitting with the mood of the play. I can't even pick out a favourite image or line.
I'd normally try to pick out a criticism to make this critique constructive in some way, but there really isn't anything...
I think that your fifth line might flow a little better if you made it "but the moon sank in her teeth" instead of "but the moon sank her teeth in"; but this is a minor point.
Best of luck, and happy clappy for following les rules
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Very pretty - lovely use of words. And after reading your comment, I can see the inspiration.
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