The red tide washes over the cattacombs of my eyes,
rage seething, cold, detached of all humanity,
that he breathes is an insult to Mother Earth.
I pray his demons torture,
in this life and in the next.
For a single moment's hesitation,
warmth surges through me as I release the blade.
the light fading eyes glaze,
bathed in satisfaction.
A contest entry
- 'killer instinct' by second-born.
600 points, ended September 14, 2007, 7 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Brilliant…the piece was definitely not a ‘cold’ one…it was a ‘hot’ poem in terms of its powerful display of the need to bring coldness to someone…this line captured my thought…’that he breathes is an insult to Mother Earth’
-
Stunning Writing.
Stunning Writing here. There is darkness here along with a raging seething mass of emotion. To pray that demons torture in this life and the next means there is some heavy emotion going on in this piece. This short piece is powerful and thought-provoking. The ending of this piece is chilling. Superbly-written.
Well done Montie. I loved it.
Wayne
Adding your comment:
