around her are dying with the madness
falling down from the sky;
the walls around the alleys
are painted with satanic muses,
and flowers bloom only in the graveyards.
Her heart is exhausted of breathing
in smoke of unfiltered thoughts
and almost dead to the magic of love;
her mind is fed up of running from today's world
in search of a better tomorrow
and as long as rays of hope pricking in her eyes -
her soul will be living in the dark.
Life is not a fairy-tale;
it's a game of wicked desires in which
one needs to master his skills.
This is a very busy poem, but in a good way. As Hellon said, a very enchanting poem! I don’t feel the last 3 lines particularly add anything interesting to the poem, as they detract from the feeling of the rest of the poem, like an afterthought. Other than that, loved it :)
I would love to have nominated this one but Naaz beat me to it...doesn't matter as long as it's out there for the judges to read. Can I just say however, I was quite enchanted with the whole verse and got caught up in it entirely until this line
Life ain't no fairy-tale;
ain't just didn't seem to fit with the rest of the language used in your poem so...I can only suggest you have another look at this line??