Cold, dark, menacing.
Silence saturates the air; even thoughts have taken leave.
A heaviness hangs,
determined to crush me into nothingness.
As I came, your soul left. No goodbyes were given.
The blade sticks from your back like a flag pole,
marking my victory.
Death has made itself comfy,
ever delighted to have been given shelter.
Write the crimes committed against me in your blood,
for you knew of the consequence that was to come.
Poetry
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This piece is depressing; I find myself feeling as burdened and heavy as the narrator is. Though I may have watch something light-hearted now, I mean this as a compliment. The job of a written piece is to bring readers in and leave them with something to think about or something to feel, and you have surpassed that challenge.
I meant to add this before, but I suggest taking out the phrase “over me” to keep the next line clean and to avoid sounding repetitive:
“A heaviness hangs,
determined to crush me into nothingness.”
Thank you for your response, I really appreciate it 🙂