Ring o’ ring:
Ring o’ ring, the bell of death doth toll, when you close your eyes and know your statue finally fell.
The wings of Icarus melted at the beats of the sun, crashed, at the toll of the bell of death.
Ring o’ ring, the father doth call, I don’t know what he wants nor do I think I want to. But it couldn’t be anything good, not from the mouth that bites the hand that it feeds.
Ring o’ ring,
it’s all you hear amongst the silence,
Ring o’ ring,
is all you hear in your final moments.
-
Author:
Micah Finchley (
Offline) - Published: September 10th, 2026 16:23
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments1
Dark and vivid, Micah! The repetition keeps tightening the dread until that final moment feels completely unavoidable. This carries the weight and atmosphere of a gothic nightmare. Excellent write, my friend! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.