The Voice of the Black Cat
THE VOICE OF FIRE
A baseline thumps like a
heavy heart.
The midnight hour is about to
start.
Glenn steps up to the silver
mic.
Ready to strike like lightning
white.
The crowd grows still in the
smoky room.
A growl builds up deep in his
chest.
The Voice of Rock will give
his best.
THE MIDNIGHT CRY
He wails a tale of a black cat
moan.
A desperate sound of a man
alone.
The high notes pierce the
dark night air.
Full of passion, grit, and
prayer.
His fingers fly across the
strings.
With every breath, the venue
rings.
The blues are bleeding
through the sound.
Shaking the walls and the
velvet ground.
ECHOES OF THE BLUES
The song winds the down to a
whisper low.
The final embers start to
glow.
The Black cat fades into the
night.
Leaving the stage in the
morning light.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
