Habitual Criminals

Unconscious I laid 

"Desperate", I said 

I locked myself in a fury 

And now I'm back up again 

The twilight ticking of sounds 

My bedroom walls have gone down 

My lighting voices it's foul 

I'm left standing to growl 

I move away from the place 

Bullets and faces of portraits 

All cave in on the centre of the floor 

I hear sounds creaking at the door 

My eye shuts quiet, but visible 

The smell of habitual criminals 

The rise of aesthetic redemption 

The blood stains all over the mansion 

The knife wielding, the tension 

He's cutlery, human arms for his venison 

I'm not the next person passing 

But I guess that's no reason 

He's got me suffocated, I know 

I see the deaths of the gross 

I see mine flashing past by 

The last dinner I'll ever savour tonight 

Author's Note

I just don't know what to say and... it's my first time writing this kind of thing so please go easy on this! :D Thanks!

Reviews

[Hanakuso]

You have an interesting title - it intrigued me. I wondered what it meant: freed prisoners, shoplifters, the lot. It's definitely eye-catching!

This poem is amazing. I actually felt chills when I read the last stanza. It'd be great if you could continue and write more like this!

[B30]

Thank you :D

[Zeph]

This is quite interesting and insperational :D
keep up the good work
100/100

[B30]

Thank you! That was such an awesome review! :D

[Zeph]

you're welcome :D

[Shreyas Tripathy]

Very well written !!
I am guessing it's about the moments just before someone is attacked by criminals...
Am I right ?

[B30]

I wanted to call the poem 'The Last Dinner', 'Aesthetic Redemption' and 'Tension'. I just thought that 'Habitual Criminals' suit the title.

Haha it's much more like a cannibal eating, monstrous human. But that was a good guess :)

Thanks for the awesome review!

[Shreyas Tripathy]

Haha nice !