As midnight tolls,
restless and awake lay countless mortal souls
whose minds would toil,
still in the quiet dark vastness of the night,
awaiting night visions,
clues offered up
from the depths that must remain unseen
during bright sunlit day,
destroyed by its unseemly glare, its demand for
truth.
Night's softer blurred edges offer easier answers
not absolute,
allowing freer thought, greater ease
in pursuit of answers to all knotty problems
poor man must some how resolve to move onward.
Phantasmagoric shapes writhe in a herky-jerky
dance at Devil's decibel range.
Dressed to match the Hellish setting Human Brain
seeks refuge in the darkest recesses of deepest
night. Truly the id is never a pretty sight.
A contest entry
- "Why not tell us what you are thinking" - Winklings #146 by Lyndon.
1750 points, ended November 24, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Is this poetry? If so, why?
Comments
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Very good!
The twist at the end is super! Good luck in the contest!
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yes, I think this is poetry...although, I don't think there is really anything that can tell us it isn't. Your last stanza is wonderful - I think you use the word night too much in the first part of the poem?
welcome to allpoetry, thanks for your lovely comment on my poem
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Great poem i loved it alot. ITs very well written
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What is your first impression?
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