A trial awaits me
Before the Great Judge.
I am the bearer of disaster.
Hell breaks loose as I trudge
Down the road to my grave.
Mystery gleams in my eye,
And until my last breathe
I shall carry the secret that I
Have kept within me.
Centuries have vanished
Under the spell of my curse,
And my soul had perished,
But I won’t let go.
I am well aware
That my ruthless life
Turned to be the nightmare
Of my once-loved people.
I murdered their essence
Like a poisoned needle
Stuck to their hearts;
I shall meet my punishment
In the event of my depart.
Their broken laments
Will torture me
Until the end of time.
So don’t pray for my rest,
For I deserve no mercy,
Don’t follow my steps,
Do not revive my history.
Author notes
Word Bank: trial, hell, disaster, people, nightmare, grave, century, mystery, great, secret, vanish, history.
A contest entry
- Last Car - Many options by Wandering Woodchuck.
990 points, ended March 30, 2009, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I didn't realize this was a word-bank - well done!
I love the depth of this, nice flow and images, too.
Nice job!
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Nice job on the word bank. I read the poem all the way through without thinking of the prompt. I did not realize you had chose that option til I read the AN.
Well done. Thank you for your entry.
Mike
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