Intertwined with vines and blooms,
She lies beneath cold moonlight
In an eternally deceiving placid pose.
Shimmering skin beneath rain soaked leaves
Warps the fatal truth like
Wet wood by the shore.
The blood washed away,
Only comatose perfection remains.
Author notes
Well this is the first thing that popped into my head when I thought of flowering vines.
A contest entry
- PIF - three of my favorite things by tara wilson.
1200 points, ended May 22, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Critical comments please
Comments
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i adore this.
however, when i read this, i do not think of flowering vines. hopefully this isn't offending lol but i kinda let my imagination run rampant sometimes, so i apologize haha but i kind of invision a beautiful girl whom has met a terribly fatal accident and lies undiscovered in a rose bush...?
good though. i think you could really take this somewhere if you expanded on this a little bit -
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Hey thanks for the comment! I know it was ages ago but I'm never online here XD I like your interpretation of the poem though, I'm tempted to draw something along those lines now
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this is really quite dark. I can see how the prompts could go in this direction, though...
thanks for entering my contest
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