And the shadow of the mottled thing doth fall upon me;
the senses do not yet recognize it as simple tree,
but more a man than montster, could it be?
With unhooded head and outstretched arms,
I yield to thee and it's dismal charms.
Finding myself in a state mever come upon before.
The state of that ravensong "nevermore"
And nevermore was I happy, sitting beneath that dauntless tree;
although strangest sense of contentment hath befallen me.
To this very day I dwell,
in mine own comfertable, personal Hell.
Author notes
I know it seems redundent, but that's just how my head works when I write in iambic pentamiter
A contest entry
- Come In Quickly Picture Inspired QUICKIE by doyouloveit.
400 points, ended November 24, 2007, 8 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Loved it! Great write Barroness.
Adding your comment:
