Onyx eyes of fiery death,
Prithee that it is quick
For it can not come fast enough
Wrenched from the soul
Lines that you have wrought
Judged and found wanting
By this dragon that cares
For but the critique
It feeds this voracious hunger
Of doom you have yet to see coming
Pen taken to hand
To ruin the dreams of many
For i, and only i, have a claim
Upon the prattle that is offal
Disintegrated until death is nigh
The life of a poet
That thought to tangle
With the fire of the Onyx Dragon.
A contest entry
- #165 Your prompt is listed on your profile page by daviscth.
700 points, ended December 4, 2008, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Thank you for your entry, it was a pleasure to read.
I really liked the ending line.
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