His is the seductive whisper
that bends my solitary stem,
his the emphatic siren’s call
coursing through my veins --
Ah, brother, mother, sweet beloved,
softest, nihilistic friend:
Make my petals fall
let your darkness crawl
slowly, gently, thoroughly
across these tired, rusted leaves.
A contest entry
- death is but a fine breath by adsaige.
700 points, ended December 25, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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beautifully sad I'll be your dark/light huckleberry
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I love this piece. The mood of it is great and the way you weave your words just makes it shine. It conveys the feelings of fall, of death, of dread... this could have been so ordinary, but you made it extraordinary. Great job.
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i love every autumnal, transitional wording you placed.
If this is to be a death.... let it be so.
That I will face it and embrace it so.
A delicious change on what we often fear.
Thank you for that
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So this is how it hapens. Death creeps up and seduces us, perhaps in the same way that sllep becomes so attractive.
"softest, nihilistic fiend" indeed.
Why is it a "he"?
This is wonderfully written...but best of all
is the whisper "That bends my solitary stem"
This is so well written and so carefully crafted, that I just about dare to challenge
"coursing through my veins" as having been said too many times before.
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