A banished earth spell caster sleeps on water. She finds herself crying. The tears gather and the world is created.
Words of exile rang in the ears of an earthen spell caster, only encouraging more thoughts of committing suicide in the water under her. Burning tears fall from her malformed face and destroy the beauty that hides within her. A few moments later, those pools gathered upon the gnarled body to reform the cruel world she lived in.
Redeemer:
Rejection by hate,
Refusal of love,
Spells are returned,
With an extra push and shove.
With eyes so wet,
And a fury strongly set,
Inside there's a rot,
More pungent than herself.
Oh, ill conceived grief-
it turned over the wreath
And now,
Pure bliss.
A contest entry
- TRIO by Lyndon.
1750 points, ended January 29, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think?
Comments
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Fictive mythology??
Whatever, I read something new.
Best wishes and thank you for entering.
Winkler Ron.
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Thank you for this poignant entry ...
It moved me. Please feel free to edit if you feel like it.
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I wouldn't know how to edit it... I wrote this half tired and now that I read it again, I'm speechless!
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