Creep against the walls with a tremendous sigh
of the wind and the floorboards.
Our eyes move the floor to the moon
and we reach up into its craters
Boxes of shadows and spirits
hide Satan and the evils
A bottle of black holes filled with God
spills against the universe.
The moon hisses and screams
and we blame the sun for the cataclysm
How dead is the moon in its nightdress
We stare out the window and watch it crash.
A contest entry
- with a rush by Melissa Gayle.
900 points, ended October 28, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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I loved the last stanza of this poem, it was very creative and vivid.
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Very full piece, you also have good control of vocabulary.
Thank you for the entry. -
This is a meaty bit of dark neo gothic verse that definitely satisfies and just in time for Halloween too.
Fine work and all the best,
Mj.
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