Published April 21, 2008
I am a cursed one.
Like flames that lick my wooden soul
They taunt me cruelly.
They whip me, and hurt.
Bright red sparks come from my fiery back,
The blood of hatred.
God forsakes me here,
He lets them hold me to the wood,
Trapped to the tree.
They're called to Lord
Proving their heated love
As the saviours of Earth
They watch me die here,
A show for children to enjoy,
For them to laugh at.
God's left me here,
And no angels hear my cries
In the cold darkness.
I drift away now,
Dying yells float around me,
No pain penetrates.
God is still there,
Though a river seems to part us,
Washing me clean.
Cool hands take me,
Bringing me forward to peace,
I'm finally to rest.
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i liked it. the form made it easy to read
Hi, there! Wow, I love the passion in this poem. I hope you'll do great in the contest. Here's my advice.
Sorry, I don't know if I can critique well or not. I really like the poem, though!