To all my dear, dear enemies,
I beseech of you.
Won’t you please grace my tea party
With your foreboding presence?
The tables will be set out under pale moonlit skies
As the chairs sit beneath the ghastly willows
And the intricate designs that adorn the silk cloths
Will forever etch itself in thy souls as
The glistening silver will elegantly kiss sweetly
Your warm, soft neck.
The dignified scent of decaying flesh shall
Embellish the serene lakeside air
As it blows across the beckoning abyss,
Whispering through the petals of the black roses
As they lie enchanting the blood stained grass
That gracefully bend under the burden
Of the ever piling corpses
As I sit quietly
Enjoying my lovely
Cup of chamomile tea.
Author notes
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A contest entry
- Surrender To My Madness (Round One) by Agrona.
780 points, ended September 11, 40 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Do you like it?
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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(laughs and bows low)
This was magnificenct! Oh the imagry! Oh the grace and metaphor and simile!
(grins)
Amazing and visual and frightenly like something my mind would cook up in a twisted sense of revenge. I love it. Brilliant my friend. Welcome to the finalists list.
Best of luck,
Your Czarina,
~Seraph -
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lol! thanks so much!!
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Geez
Can't believe I haven't commented on this yet.
I think I wanna draw this.
Put that on my 'to draw' list.
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nice! It is very Alice in Wonderlandy......gr8 write!
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Reminds me of the tea party in um, Alice in Wonderland.
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yup.
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