by Daniel   Nov 20, 2018

made a tomb of
my ribcage; for an
age, wolves howl,

kind of foul creatures;
their paws dirtying
the windowpanes.

I smell the rain on
their fur, the damp
rank stench
from their open

your lips were

your eyes were
wide. For a while
you lay by my side,

I remember now,
how the sun hung
in the ashen sky
behind your

when you kissed me,
there was only

and I will not hide
this time, I will not
surrender my body
so meekly

for nothing was weaker
than my instincts,

I open my mouth,
and I’m no longer a crypt,
nor afraid of
opening the door

and finding no creatures
were there at all.


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Latest Comments

  • 4 months ago

    by IdTakeABulletForYou

    Judge's Comment:

    Most of The Prince’s poems appear to be very-much-so open for interpretation; to me, this poem is about someone who doesn’t want to let another person in. To our protagonist, possible lovers end up being “some kind of foul creatures [… at …] the window panes.” He uses wonderful imagery and meticulously perfect word choices to guide us through a dark, gothic setting. Of course, the ending is open to interpretation; although the last couplet highlights that “no creatures were there at all.”, one must also keep in mind that it’s just a possibility upon opening the door. What actually lay outside, neither we nor the protagonist know at this point, but that open ending ends up being both heartwarming and, at the same time, leaving the reader craving for more. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this multiple times.


  • 5 months ago

    by Nikkicola

    This is beautiful. I love the message you're portraying in this piece. This piece reminds me of when hopelessness and fear has swallowed me in the past and has taken over every rational thought I had. Then in the end a glimpse of hope shining through in a time you thought it was impossible.

    • 5 months ago

      by Daniel

      I’m glad you enjoyed, and could relate in some way. I hope you always find no monsters at your door :)

  • 6 months ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    It's fascinating how in the second half of the poem, the direction is changed, the tone moves to determined, and I feel a rush of hope. Like you are putting yourself out there among your fears, among what your mind tries to convince you is real. The ending lines actually made me think of agoraphobia. Surrendering to one's body could also be representing anxiety and how our thoughts can try to persuade us we are too weak, that the world is too cruel, that these foul creatures exist. Such strong imagery that portrays the complexity of trying to conquer this fear, of recognizing there is more than the darkness of fear, in knowing there are others who can enliven your spirit. My only qualm was with the line "for an age wolves howl", I couldn't figure out if that should be "an aged wolf"? The "for an age" just sounded awkward aloud but then again it could very obviously be me not understanding lol.

    Anyway, congrats on the win :)

  • 6 months ago

    by Darren

    Congrats on another win, knocking them out of the park on your return.
    I originally joined the site pretty much the day you left, your name was like folklore. Top of the praised comments and your name uttered on the forums. (which back then was a scary place)
    Glad to see you back and see the legend behind the myth.

    • 6 months ago

      by Daniel

      Hahaha folklore may be a slight exaggeration :P I had always considered returning and I couldn’t have asked for s nicer welcome! Thank you Darren.

  • 6 months ago

    by Jamie

    Congrats on your win

    • 6 months ago

      by Daniel

      Thank you dude :)

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