Drowning Amy

A very dark poem, about necrophilia and obsession...

Enraptured by thine ambience, this lock within

My lock consumes the droning of thoracic wings,

Foul paragons of wriggling bliss! Beguiling like a 

Harpy's song (but black as blood by moonlight

Viewed) I contemplate those ashen lips, taste of

Thy accursed bloom. Now, my secrets merge with

Art--as quiet as her room... 

Reviews

[Ashley Campbell]

You have a certain style of writing in this piece that I find particularly enjoyable, there's a certain serenity in this that I particular enjoy.

"Now my secrets merge with
Art--as quiet as her room..."

I freakin' love this line, I think it was the PERFECT way to end this poem. I feel malice but it seems almost as if the words smile, like the narrator is gloating about a deed committed in plain sight.

[Juliet]

True, it is exceedingly dark, but you've captured an entire mind consuming, insanely morbid scenario into a quite small-ish poem. I'd say excellent write and Kudos to you. ^_^