Vampire Ballads

Hi there,
So first of all, this looks like a fairly long poem but actually it's extremely short because it's mostly just the repetition of those same lines all the way through. You've got a fun little vampire story here, and you could turn it into a memorable poem, but the repetition kills it here. I've got some ideas for you; use or reject at will.
1. Let go of the quotation style; use descriptors of how pale her face is, or how dark the room is, or how her grip is strong despite her sickness.
2. Let go of the references to the knight that vamped her; let it just be the two of them in a room, and her turning him.
3. Try to give the characters some personality instead of letting them be flat cutout characters.

Okay, I'm done now. Keep writing, best of luck, PM me if you have any questions

Hello there, winjuri, and welcome to YWS. You might want to get around to reviewing other members' works; it's a great way to make friends and get more reviews on your own writing.

Now, onto the review!

A Vampires Tale 2

Oh ow. My eyes. Is there a reason the title is colored and so brightly? If not, I suggest not coloring the title; it will make your poem more reader-friendly.

I’m sick at the heart and will die if you leave”

Considering how often that line is repeated, the missing "will" really irked me.

Overall, this poem was very repetitious. A bit too repetitious, to be perfectly honest. I suggest spacing out the repetitions. One way of doing so is to lengthen the stanzas; another would be to alternate starting lines between stanzas so that, instead of every stanza starting off with a variation of the same couplet, you have two sets of couplets that alternate. I think the latter option would work very well for this poem as it seems to be a dialogue between the princess and the prince. You could easily alternate stanzas between the viewpoints of the princess and prince, which also leaves room for expanding the poem.

I've finally found you!!
accept my friend invite okay?

man i was getting lost in here...
this feeling sucks..
3:)

here... u'll give you a copy of my work...
so you need not search
...







Once again I have made another step I did not think of, another stupid foolish decision. I knew there was something not right, something I have done too early. The prematurity of this foolishness can be detected from the start. I wasted so much time, so much effort on a thing unsure of giving me anything in return. I do not know what had gotten into me; I was Jack from the start after all. I sold my precious cow for a bag of magical beans. But unlike the fairy tale, the beans did not grow tall as expected. Yes, I know that those beans have yielded me happiness and contentment. Every effort I gave did seem to flourish very slowly. But still there is uncertainty; there is still a tiny percentage of failure. That tiny percentage is what I have dreaded from the start. The fear of losing everything I worked for, the stupid, cowardly fear of wasting all the effort I gave. I have always been a prideful entity, and it has been a habit for me to do things in a planned manner. And all this time I have allowed the blind, trusting heart to rule over everything. I have been stuck in every move the heart made me do. I may be called intellect, the companion of the fragile heart. I have kept inside all the possible outcomes of what the heart is doing, and it is not impossible that both of us would get hurt in the end. The heart is such a fool. He is the one who gets easily enslaved by mere emotions; he does this all for the pleasure of being happy. He does not think of what possible outcomes his every move might have. But I have guided him enough already. I have told him not to waste those meaningful and promising words on a very uncertain cause. In the end, it seems that it is not the average heart that normally does such foolish actions, but it is the love-stricken one. I admit that the heart is more influential than I, but I have enough sense not to trust these earthly emotions. The only problem is that the heart does not entertain my warnings. He obviously likes the company of love; he likes the company of a thing that makes you do things uncalculated and indefinite. All these will surely heighten the chances of getting hurt in the end. I do not fully appreciate the joy and contentment lave can give, I mean, we can always love at a different time, when we have fully understood what love is. Our immaturity can lead us to pain, the eventual wounding of the heart. And we do not even know if it would heal or not. We do not know if the scar would annoy us forever. I do not play the villain here, I am just an imaginary symbol used to express what our mind is for, and I only say my opinion. I carry the burden of these worries, all for the sake of making the heart; everything happy. The heart is so trusting. I am just so sick of being hurt.




so... how is it?

Wow... Eerie.
Strangely, I love the way you kept repeating the lines, it gives a dark feeling to the poem. I do agree with your characters being a little flat, but maybe that was what you were going for (?), I don't know.
I have a morbid obsession with vampires and can never get enough, so when I saw the title of your poem, I just had to read...

..Hi there winjuri!..
...uhmmm...okay..i do understand the repetitions..of course, because its a ballad..Your poem reminds me of a ballad entitled Lord Randal..

Lord Randal
"O where ha you been, Lord Randal, my son!
And where ha you been, my handsome young man!"
"I ha been at the greenwood; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down."

"An wha met ye there, Lord Randal, my son?
An wha met you there, my handsome young man?"
"O I met wi my true-love; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down."

"And what did she give you, Lord Randal, my son?
And what did she give you, my handsome young man?"
"Eels fried in a pan; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down."

"And wha gat your leavins, Lord Randal, my son?
And wha gat your leavins, my handsome young man?"
"My hawks and my hounds; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down."

"And what becam of them, Lord Randal, my son?
And what becam of them, my handsome young man?"
"They stretched their legs out and died; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi huntin, and fain wad lie down."

"O I fear you are poisoned, Lord Randal, my son!
I fear you are poisoned, my handsome young man!"
"O yes, I am poisoned; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down."

"What d'ye leave to your mother, Lord Randal, my son?
What d'ye leave to your mother, my handsome young man?"
"Four and twenty milk kye; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and I fain wad lie down"

"What d'ye leave to your sister, Lord Randal, my son?
What d'ye leave to your sister, my handsome young man?"
"My gold and my silver; ; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and I fain wad lie down"

"What d'ye leave to your brother, Lord Randal, my son?
What d'ye leave to your brother, my handsome young man?"
"My houses and my lands; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and I fain wad lie down"

"What d'ye leave to your true-love, Lord Randal my son?
What d'ye leave to your true-love, my handsome young man?
"I leave her hell and fire; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and I fain wad lie down"

correct me if I'm wrong, is your ballad patterned to this ballad?..