Spoiler
This was a poem I made last year. It was an assignment I had to do, and I am curious to see what others think of this. I forgot what I got on it in school.
Sorry it's a little long, I had to have at least 6 stanzas. If anyone would "grade" it, that would be appreciated as well! I accept comments, criticism, and all that other good stuff.
A black rose has lost its first petal,
falling into the dark, restless night.
Withering slowly but surely, it begins its descent,
to the fields of despair.
The fields of death.
It was then I became blind to the world,
blind to the events around me.
All I saw was him.
His limp body, his dark rustled hair.
His eyes that used to stare at me hungrily,
His soft lips that used to caress me,
drawing me closer to him with each passing moment.
But all I see now is a face with no emotion.
A black rose has lost its second petal,
falling into the black, charred ground.
A voice whispers to me, pleading for me to run,
pleading me to look back.
But I do nothing.
I am as still as the body in front of me,
still as a statue standing on a moonlit night.
I do not see the shadows that lurk in every corner,
watching, waiting, grinning at my carelessness.
I am blind to the world,
blind to the events around me.
All I saw was him.
His limp body, his dark rustled hair.
His eyes, which used to be hungry, staring me down.
His soft lips that caressed me,
drawing me closer to him with each passing moment.
But all I see now is a face with no emotion.
A black rose has lost its third petal,
falling from the gloomy sky.
Death slowly catches up to me,
but I do not see it.
I shakily stand up from his grave,
and walk slowly to my house.
I take my last look at him,
my last look at the world.
I do not see the black eyes that stare me down.
These eyes are filled with a different hunger I do not expect.
I do not hear the steps coming toward me,
silently but quickly in this dark night.
I do not taste the foul mist
that has begun to surround me.
I do not smell his presence,
his faint perfume that smelled of blood.
As the last petal falls from the black rose,
I do indeed feel the sharp knife that strikes my back.
I was blind to this world,
blind to the events around me.
I now feel the blood flowing out of my body
and onto the solid ground.
I now see my killer who wore a black coat,
a black hat, black boots.
He sets a black rose on my chest.
I know it will wither slowly but surely.
I take one last look at this world,
one last look at this gloomy night.
Everything went black as the first petal wilted away.
