Wicked Things

by LUNARGIRL

Published November 5, 2020

16+

In Poetry

Warning: This work has been rated 16+.

On a breezy night the winter chill takes flight,

colors clash as the sky fades to black.

On a cloudless night, winter is cold,

as cold as your soul, that the devil takes hold.

...

Like night and day, your mind turns pitch black,

colors drain and drizzle about.

Your body is thrashing and crashing all through your house,

your body Is limping, lying undead in the house.

...

Your eyes flutter and flicker as you see the world about, 

that someday somehow, you'll know all about.

How death takes a toll, and it never turns back,

how wicked things happen, and your world will go crash.

...

As loud as thunder you will hear me cry, 

"When wicked things happen, people will die."

Comments & reviews · 2
FlamingHomosexual wrote a review Review · Nov 8, 2020

Hiya, I’m new so please forgive me if this is awkward. Er, love the energy of the whole piece. Really nice, especially around spooky season.
You are really great at scenery. Reading this, I feel like I’m in a horror movie or something.
Only thing is, the length of the last stanza is a bit weird. It’s barley a sentence while the other stanzas have 2 or 3.
Umm...good job buddy. Keep writing!

User avatar
Avis
Review
Avis wrote a review Review · Nov 5, 2020

Wow this is really good and I love the intense feeling.

I really love your use of imagery and the dark feeling of the poem.

If I had to critique it, there are a couple spots where you end two line in a row with the same word, which is fine if that's how you like it. It just feels a liitle repetitive, especially reading it out loud.

Also, the second line of the second stanza is a little short compared to the others, so it might help to even out the rhythm a bit.

Overall, I really liked it and I found it to be very powerful. I especially enjoyed the end and the ominous feeling it leaves you with. Great job ^-^

Thanks for the review!



Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
— Carl Sandburg