A fusion ball,
of all those little moments,
critical mass reached,
old scabs rupturing,
vomiting forth a frenzy,
crawling, incessant, closing in.
One million teeth chattering,
snapping, devouring lies,
robbing you of your defenses;
barren and naked,
stand in your grave,
await your pile of dirt.
This is the moment,
with the beauty of a diamond,
where fury finds you;
chill of realization,
bracketed by worthlessness,
you have nothing left.
Flail and wail,
cry, plead and excuse,
red curtains muffle all;
you trod the wrong path,
walking into my dream,
of private vengeance.
Author notes
As evident in previous poems/writes, I can dare or have the guts to put far more hatred or anger in pieces than this, however, with that, in my case, tends to come a lot of very, very creative and colourful cursing, which was asked not to do here, so this is far more toned down for me.
A contest entry
- Give me your Rage! by Bean Sidhe.
700 points, ended October 21, 2008, 19 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This is lovely. The anger is persistent and I am impressed that you were able to give me shivers without a real verbal assault of violence. Great job! Thank you for your entry & best of luck!
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Thank you, tried to stay focussed in this one instead of rambling too far into hatred and cussing frantically and blindly lol.
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