The day runs into the night,
The moon filled with fright
As it shines its silver light
Upon bats taking to flight.
Standing there on a hill,
A creature stands still
And alone in the dark
As it wanders a park.
Alive and alone to start,
Left with a beating heart
And many a broken limb,
The creature’s fate is grim.
In a fog blanket shroud,
The creature moans aloud,
Looking to the stars above,
Seeking solace, seeking love.
A modern Prometheus, unknown,
In the night it onward roams.
With no home, ever, to it open,
The monster is love unspoken.
- Authors: Tristan Robert Lange
- Visible: All lines
- Finished: August 19th, 2024 01:00
- Limit: 15 stanzas
- Invited: Friends (users on his/her list of friends can participate)
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 8
Comments1
Hello Tristan. I apologise for never participating in the fusion poem. I have been stupidly busy with my studies and vacation and therefore never logged on to the site. I do apologise. From the poems I have read of yours I would have considered it a great pleasure to participate in a fusion poem with you. Please never hesitate to send me such requests in the future. I will be sure to keep an ear to the ground!! Quite the melancholic and vivid poem that it became however. I hope you enjoyed the process!
No worries and thank you for the comment! I will not hesitate to include you!
I appreciate your inclusion very much, thank you! I look forward to your next work.
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