Spinning, sweating in her room
Not knowing this could be her tomb
In this world that makes no sense.
Unaware of where she is
Running down dark passages
Deceived by their appearance.
Voices only in her head
Whisper while her feet are led
A dance of no coherence.
Her footsteps falter, tumbling
To reasons that their mumbling
She offers no resistance.
The music leaves her trembling
Her mind awakes remembering
Someone stole her innocence.
Soon it will be time to sleep
In the dark her secrets keep
Persistence of existence.
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Author:
PerditaRose (
Offline) - Published: November 6th, 2025 14:36
- Category: Fantasy
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Soman Ragavan, Paul Bell
Offline)
Comments4
Good write, Perdita. And welcome to the Poetic side.
Thanks for pointing me in this direction, Jerry.
My pleasure. Now, read some poems written by some amazing poets and make some new friends.
This poem is hard to put the finger on but it is special. Is it the dark topic, the rhyme scheme that feels like a heart beat and the tercets make it feel as though it is skipping a beat yet caught up in the next tercet. All merge in whole message that is haunting. Welcome to MPS with a fave
Thank you for reading my poem and for your thoughtful comments. I purposely didn't try to explain what my poem was about. Do you think that would have been helpful?
Welcome to MPS! This is raw, unsettling, and beautifully put together. Thanks for sharing such a powerful piece. 🕊️🙏
I'm sorry, Arqios, for not responding yesterday. Your kind comments were greatly appreciated. Thank you for welcoming me to MPS. Yesterday was my first day, but already it feels like a very natural place to be.
You are most welcome🕊️🙏
This could be a child's nightmare, also abuse.
Definitely leaves its mark which makes it special.
Thank you for your insights, Paul. This was the first poem I submitted to MPS when I joined on 11/6/25. Not so long ago on the calendar, but it has changed me for the good, I think. This is a very personal and private experience for the person in this poem. It is for the reader to decide what the experience is exactly. There is no wrong interpretation. For me, it speaks of isolation and distress.
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