Wake up, It burns.
Drop the match
Light us on fire
Watch the colours burn bright
I wash with a washboard
Made of razors.
See the maggots writhe
In,
Your cuts.
You love no more than rust.
Empty bodies,
Are the best
To find, fill them up with your
Self-Loathing.
Cut it open and feed off the happiness
Like a leech.
Her body, is cold.
Uselss, like your heart
Don't forget the noose.
See the children cringe, as you burn?
I giggle when your eyes
Bulge
And the tears of blood,
Flow.
Author notes
Inspired "the Machine" by the Pax Cecilia
A contest entry
- Music inspired poetry. All welcome...HOWEVER!!! by Progandother.
1100 points, ended June 8, 17 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
...if I was being biased I'd just give you a trillion points for picking one of my favourite unknown songs...but as you now Chris (yes Chris I know it's you) we have to be fair...
...tis vewy good and follows the atmosphere well...the quick staccato triplets of the guitar opening are emphasised by the short "wake up. it burns" and then follows on with a rather morbid and somewhat emoey (I shall say what I wish Chris) but as the song explodes near the end into abstract crazy meandering so does your poem but with a more sustained gradual rallentando to the word "Flow." what's more "Her body is cold" machines are cold Chris....I MADE A LINK!!!
...super well done on the song selection and super well done on the poem....good luck in the contest..
Oliver
Adding your comment:
