In a place east of here, the night
crashes down, the gloom
fills up the streets, and blackness
smothers the town. No evening
arrives, no gradual fading
of light, but simply immediate, inescapable, night.
People do live here, but don’t appear
after four; they just hide
in their homes, a bar on the door.
And yet, to a watcher, nothing
seems to be wrong, but it’s shadows
they fear, and the shadows’ dark song.
For the shadows here sing, and if you’re out
on the street, then their song will call
you, seductive and sweet. You cannot resist
them, you will not stay still, and the shadows
will lure you, embrace you, and kill.
The choir of Medoma, this fear-stricken
town, was once best in the land, famous,
renowned. But an envious king
ascended the throne, could not stand to hear
voices, so superior to his own.
With help from his wizards, he stole
their ability to sing, not caring
that he crippled them, like a bird’s
broken wing. Deprived of
the music, their world turned
to grey, their lives
held no joy, and they faded away.
The choir is gone, but their shadows
remain, singing of anger, of revenge
and of pain. They’re eternally bitter, full of fury
and spite, so if you go to Medoma, beware of the night.
crashes down, the gloom
fills up the streets, and blackness
smothers the town. No evening
arrives, no gradual fading
of light, but simply immediate, inescapable, night.
People do live here, but don’t appear
after four; they just hide
in their homes, a bar on the door.
And yet, to a watcher, nothing
seems to be wrong, but it’s shadows
they fear, and the shadows’ dark song.
For the shadows here sing, and if you’re out
on the street, then their song will call
you, seductive and sweet. You cannot resist
them, you will not stay still, and the shadows
will lure you, embrace you, and kill.
The choir of Medoma, this fear-stricken
town, was once best in the land, famous,
renowned. But an envious king
ascended the throne, could not stand to hear
voices, so superior to his own.
With help from his wizards, he stole
their ability to sing, not caring
that he crippled them, like a bird’s
broken wing. Deprived of
the music, their world turned
to grey, their lives
held no joy, and they faded away.
The choir is gone, but their shadows
remain, singing of anger, of revenge
and of pain. They’re eternally bitter, full of fury
and spite, so if you go to Medoma, beware of the night.
Author notes
By Shadowsong
This is a different style for me- the breaks are called caesura and it's my first shot at it. Let me know what you think.
Written February 22nd, 2004
In a list
A contest entry
- Whatever..just make it good. [astonish me] by borrowing.moonlight.
1000 points, ended June 30, 2008, 160 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Calling ALL Poets! ~ A Poetry Extraveganza by Shassidy.
475 points, ended July 18, 2008, 84 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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wow!!! it blew me away, such an awesome piece, i like the story and how you tell it...thank you for the warning- "beware of the night" (i sure will)..


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This is a decent piece - fantastical but not melodramatic, which often isn't the case. The caesura are put to good use for the most part, although stanza 5 is awkward rhythmically. I'm sure you don't need to be told that the rhyme scheme works exceptionally well, aiding the flow of the piece without being too distracting. Maybe you'll want to trim a few of the pyrrhic units; for example 'and ren[owned]' may work better without the 'and' - making the line-start iambic.
Enjoyable read though
Edited on Nov 06, 3:26 p.m. because ''. -
i love the way you made a short story out of your poem, very genius. the concept is great and beautifully written.
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Lovely story, nice and origional. I think dark poetry must be a natural thing for you, if this is different from your usual style. This poem worked very well. Really interesting. Very well done, good luck in the contest
Thank you for entering
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Being original in dark poetry is something that i have found to be quite difficult, as the feeling of despair and hate is so present in everyones poetry at least once. Though your poem began with that old familiar feeling, it turned out to be something quite srurpising. You definately pass the strangling test, woohoo! But honestly, i love this piece, very good rhythm and marvelous feel for what you were writing, like it was easy for you. Interesting form. Love it,
Meracus -
wow! this is a fantastic poem, i love the structure, it is very cleverly done, and it flows beautfully! ace! good luck in teh contest, rach xx
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Smart
this is so dark, so scary...but thought so nice, I love the concept, the way you use the words, the metaphor, simile, you combime them into a great work, you have a talent, ..........Poet For Ever!!!!!! -
this is really... wow. I mean I can see the town almost in my head you know? Your imagery is that good.
Oh yea, um I entered your contest and I hope it was ok to enter twice.
Great poem!
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I like the style. You break up the sentences, but always in the same area, if that makes any sense. It does to me, but I'm crazy. I love how it rhymes in the middle of the stanza, too. It's really unique and it's one of those poetic quirks that gives me a ticklish feeling. Very original. Awesome job here, really cool.
-Kate -
This was a very nice and effective poem! It had lots of detail and description but was still interesting to read despite its length. We apprectiate you entry a lot! Good luck in our contest!!!
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wow, that's a really cool story! I like that. I like the wrap-around lines, they work well. great write!
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Cieasha_Brown@yahoo.com
This is one of the best poems i've read yet!!!1 great job!!
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