The Girl

The first of the poems about her.

So, there she was

A trap, a trap

Beneath the angelic ways

Set herself high

Upon the fires

Prancing about in waves

The flickering wisp

The thick and the strong

The pumps, the pumps

They followed along.

When she fell

I saw the wings; the claws

They dropped on me

And left me there, a rotting heap

Of which her beloved could not keep

And when she stood back up

I cried for the past

And sent myself away at last. 

Author's Note

I'm not the best at poetry, and I tend to stick to stories. So when I do write poetry, it's when I truly believe that my situation is deserving of such a beautiful form of writing.

Reviews

[Raveness]

I love the idea itself however it's a little scatterbrained.Good job though