Sometimes I flicker as the candle flame,
Temporarily subdued by a freak gust of wind.
Sometimes I burn bright as an unhindered fire,
Slight or not, I am always burning.
Sometimes I flow soft like the mountain stream,
Cool, gentle and refreshing to the taste.
Sometimes I run furious, like the angry river,
Whichever, my waters are forever flowing.
Sometimes I am carried away on a cool evening breeze,
Waiflike, on across the night I am stolen.
Sometimes like the hurricane, I rage on careless,
Carried or carry my air is ever breathable.
Always I am here in some form or other,
Watching, listening, caring and maiming.
Sometimes my actions appear cruel, sometimes fair,
But forever I will be here as forever I have been
As gently, she drifts through the darkness
Waiflike, she flows on the breeze
Her eyes never resting on anyones
Appearing to all Ill at ease
She wades in the depths of her carnage
Pressed by the weight of her sins
The humans, mere collateral damage
Ever conscious the thirst always wins
Her games will be played in the darkness
She's queen of the damned, you're her pawn
And the best, of the worse, you can hope for
Is to last 'til the break of the dawn
Lost in the wonder of bloodlust
A little too long in the tooth
She's witnessed her friends turn to dust
While she Lives on, enchained by her youth
The curse of the love of a demon
Taints the flow of the blood in her veins
It has ended her innocent dreaming
Now none but her nightmare remains
As she calls to the night, ever knowing
Her hunger can never be filled
An insatiable thirst, ever flowing
Through rivers of blood that she's spilled
As Black as the night that enfolds her
As dark as the road that she travels
She moves with the grace of an angel
Whilst waiting for time to unravel
Tap, Tap, Tap
Tiny scruffy shoes
Awaiting small waiflike feet.
Pining to explore.
Tattered from walking,
Adoring the exploring.
Providing comfort.
Two lonely black shoes
Amusing both days and nights.
Praying for delight.
Tiny shoes now rest.
Anticipating new dreams.
Pretending to sleep.
Tomorrow she comes.
And slips tiny feet inside.
Proudly perked-up souls –
Two happy black shoes
Anxiously begin the day.
Playfully happy –
© Dane Smith-Johnsen
April 17, 2010
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.