Beckon Of Suicide
26 January, 2004
Author: Crimson Angel
Such a beautiful moon
The dewdrops of starlight benign
Mounting waves crashing below
The rocks at the bottom, so fine
Lest this temptation encircle me
For the night, be so ever still
A wind of beckon to call me
Send my shoulder opposing a chill
Half of me lingers above it
The other half, too frightened to risk
As though awaiting to be scolded
A child caught - Tisk, tisk, tisk
Still clinging to that of fear
Wishing to be released
Protected as a fallen
A fallen from grace in the least
Thus my wings shall spread out wide
My chains shall release their grasp
I shall pull out of existence
O death, embrace me at last
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| John (62.254.59.156) -- Thursday, March 25 2004, 10:37 am Well structured poem, I think it is excellent. |
| Crimson Angel (67.162.95.179) -- Monday, March 29 2004, 10:47 pm Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. |
| Mike (82.35.244.198) -- Thursday, April 21 2005, 01:04 pm This poem sent shivers down my spine. I love watching the moon, and I've had the same sort of temptations come across me while I sit and stare at it. I found it hard to put into words, but I'm sure I couldn't have done it even half as good as you've done it here. |
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