Our skeletons rise through the veil of blood
I am a spirit starving for vindication
You stand there, comforted by her love
Perhaps we lost it so much sooner
I nuture your melancholic hand
As you erase only your own suffering
We die at dawn tomorrow
For I only hold the tethers of my own world now
Who summons us now from our grave?
If we were to wake again, that is
A mutable love between two
We are the dead
You are the bullet to my head
Because you're shattering my heart again
Closure can never be found
When the ghosts are still out
A contest entry
- Mystery Prompt Grab-Bag 01 (No Pre-Writes) by intoothandclaw.
700 points, ended March 29, 2009, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
12b.] Concept: hungry ghost, 12c.] Lyric: "Our skeletons rise through the veil of blood... Who summons us now from our grave? We are the dead."
Comments
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Huh. Wow. This is very different than the expected response for this prompt. I find myself wandering back and forth along it, pondering it. Familiar lines presented unchanged in form, yet with totally altered meaning to the original presentation. The subject matter is one I usually avoid both because the emotions involved make me uncomfortable and because it's usually rendered poorly, awkwardly, and/or cliche-ly. In this case, the totally unexpected juxtaposition of the vocabulary used with the topic gives it an almost surreal disjointed feeling, which adds a lot of "reader value"; it's still uncomfortable, but in an unexpected way.
What can you really learn from unalloyed comfort, anyway?
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Your Prompts:
12a.] http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v71/lurhstaap/dyingtodeath.jpg
12b.] Concept: hungry ghost
12c.] Lyric: "Our skeletons rise through the veil of blood... Who summons us now from our grave? We are the dead."
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