The Stalker
The faces in photos,
become the darkness,
behind a back-alley
of this dark street,
her virginity
is your ecstasy
A wish upon
a wrong star.....
Falling for
little girls
of innocence,
not wishing
for your
slaying here.....
Her colors
become drained
as your urges
so strongly
build to a lost shepherd
becoming a demon.
A victim
is now
the monster,
of your urges,
proud of this?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment