Come in dear, child do come in, to the
Place where all your nightmares begin
Where all the horrors made are said
To dance around inside your head
They never leave their always there
For you have entered the demon's lair
The darkness creeps inside your mind
No dawn, no light that you can find
And every minute is a constant hell
You suffer more than words can tell
It is fear far beyond, all you know
And to make matters worse, you can never go
You scream out loud, but make no sound
You're lost, you're gone you can't be found
But why are you scared of all this pain?
When it was you that made it inside your brain
I thought that you knew very well
That it was you who created this fiery cell
And that the hardships you feel outside your head
Are projected and increased inside there instead
So come in dear child, do come in, to the
Place where all your nightmares begin
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
WOw thats the best! I love it! I love all the quick snappy rhymes, and how its dark but not neccessarily all slow and deap.
Ya. The Hollow belongs to the spectre
Spectre's Hollow.
Spectre's is possessive of the Hollow.
The spectre's are not hollow. The hollow as in a space in for instance a tree. This is the hollow where the spectres are.
Why on earth would I be saying the spectres were hollow?
Couplets? No. Don't ever do a poem of couplets. Couplets should be witty and sharp and at the end of a poem - not run throughout.
Anyway, 'Spectre's Hollow' as a title is nonsensical. Spectres are, by definition, hollow. So saying that a Spectre possesses the quality of being Hollow, is tautological (redundant). 'Spectre' also raises some interesting notions about this poem (and the apparent lack of reference). A spectre is a looming entity that grips and chokes its victims - what you described, or, better, the way in which you described this 'spectre' is not a 'spectre' at all! It is, in terms of psychology, the 'point of memory,' where one must face ghosts of the past. A spectre has a different connotation from that: you do not 'face' a spectre, you escape it. Your rendering of 'spectre' as an entity is from the perspective of the Spectre itself, which places the narrator at the heart of unreliability -- play this up.
Spectre is a good word; Hollow is not. Adjust the poem in a way that elucidates what this 'spectre' is, and how, specifically, it haunts us. You did a descriptive poem: you described a process. This is frowned upon, and I suggest instead of describing an [insert emotion, author, idea], you interpret them into everyday life.
This is very helter-skelter, but then I'm blaming that on my lack of sleep. There's a quote from an early John Irving novel which is "My reaction--to insomnia and to life in general--is to give in."