The moon glows eerily in the black velvet sky
With each strangled breath life passes me by
I can see the birds picking clean your bones
I can hear the ghosts whisper near the gravestones
If this is hell then where's the fire?
A rusty nail being my only desire
The death, the blood, its all just a dream
Nothing is as bad as it seems
Let the devil claim my wicked soul
Let him toss me in a maggoty hole
Death, after all, is an eternal sleep
Before we die, its the sins we keep.
A contest entry
- Prewrites welcome.... by Luckintheshadows.
500 points, ended September 10, 2008, 28 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Awesome! I loved it......
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Thank you so much for commenting! I actually had no clue what to call the poem so the name was totally random, since I just thought of the imagery as a form of "art" so the title just came to me like that. I appreciate your input for it encourages me to write more poetry like this.
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This poem caught me right from the title...love that "the art of dying" <---sends chills right there! Your poem is rich with superb imagery, I can imagine myself painting this, no jokes! Your lines flow beautifully and I especially think that your last 2 lines round out the poem beautifully!
Thank you for sharing this, and taking the time to enter my contest,
Luck.
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