If Time could brush my foolish words, as swords,
once spoken, haunting ghosts through reddish sky.
My narrow eye regrets those slips when hoards
in gathered dew from moony face, asked why?
Unfolded as vision lightens scenes of fight,
when angels sword is splitting genes from bones.
On tigress back rides life in shiny delight.
Dark stripes as frozen dreams, my trouble zones.
See suicidal wings of ancient calls;
disturbing deeds crush plastic verdicts sleep.
Provoking rivers clean my minds faded walls;
reversion always mourns too late his leap.
Research each way to flame your crystal part;
while actions, sweet or poison, feed each start.
Author notes
Prompt: "Actually, I have moments of great assholishness." from the novel: Acheron by Sherrilyn Kenyon.
An English sonnet.
Rhyme-scheme: a/b/a/b - c/d/c/d - e/f/e/f - g/g
A contest entry
- Novel Quotes by Gypsie Ink.
450 points, ended September 10, 2008, 7 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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fabulous
you did a great job.. its amazing -
I missed this one congrats on your shiny win ~ this poem is absolutely wonderfully written
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Thank you It took me two days and a huge headache, but it was worth it
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Exquisite!
Such an aged feel. Decadent and sumptuous. A lovely write. Thank you for your deep and captivating entry and best of luck in my contest.
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