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Down to the void
bloodsucker10
17, Female, United States
OFFLINE

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The vast land was so desolate in the midst of nowhere,
The pale moon casted a spooky shadow on the trees,
The gnarled branches of the fig tree seemed to grab me.
And that’s when I started screaming—
Screaming—screaming—
I started screaming and headed on the dark void.

I wore a white flowing robe with a black lace on my hips,
I had a satin wrapped around my ivory neck with a pendant on it;
The ornament had a thousand strands of silver and emerald,
And I moved on twinkling,
My pendant gleaming,
My eyes shone with fear as I ran away with fright.

I toppled and scrambled and my skin was bleeding,
The thick, red liquid gushed along my shoulder,
My white flowing robe became spattered with blood—
Blood—blood—
I held back my scream and my throat got burned,
Burned with the fear of facing my doom.

Gasping and crying I came to a gloomy old inn
Where there were blood red roses and black foxgloves in the yard,
Relieved I wasn’t alone I desperately knocked—
Knocked—knocked—
Until the cold wind reached me again and oh! I screamed.
The door opened only to reveal a young man’s face.

His face was pale and his eyes were black and his skin was marble white,
He said, “What’s the matter, my Lady?”
“Oh tell me the matter my Lady.”
I cried and laughed and embraced him tight too happy to be safe,
And I felt his skin was hard and smooth and terribly cold,
I stopped and stared and he grinned at me—his teeth were bared!

No fangs! No blood! Except in my flowing robe!
I took a step back away from him and cautiously turned.
“What’s the matter, my Lady?” he asked.
“Oh tell me the matter my Lady.”
And he crouched and lunged and aimed at my satin-covered throat.
He smiled and bit my satin-covered throat.

Immediately I awoke and puffed and huffed to find
Myself in my warm bed inside my old, familiar room.
But then I stopped dead only to see myself in mirror,
My dress was bloody—oh! Yes, my dress was bloody,
The satin around my neck was gone, totally gone!
And in my hands I saw—
Both in my hands I saw—
A beautiful blood red rose and a tiny black foxglove.
10 October 2011 01:07 PM

Poetry Subscribers (2)

Poetry Comments (1)
MannequinsDance
Excellent! I love your poetry!
13 November 2011 06:19 AM
1


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