Challenge Dates: August 10, 2026 - August 16, 2026.
A cold dawn creeps, pale and dead, I swing from a tree filled with dread. I rise so fast, I chase the scream, Lost in a grim and fierce dream. The wind claws at my hair fast, I grip the ropes, I gasp at the blast. Up high I shoot, to pierce the sky, Where black crows screech, then fly. The sun sinks down, a red streak bleeds, Night hunts the yard with dark deeds. White stars flash out like sharp sparks, I hide in bed and brave the dark. "Note: AI image generated to complement the themes of my original poem."
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.
