Frost falling from trees,
Muddied leaves torn apart,
As wind howls like the sound of a thousand broken keys,
A horrible, primal anger that does not know where to start.
Mother Nature throws back her head and laughs,
Each throaty shake sending rocks tumbling.
And I am lost in those icy shafts,
The ground beneath angrily rumbling.
Tossed about like a doll,
To strain for her call,
To hate the day she comes,
To claim us all.
Cast behind sheets of glass,
Banging, screaming against the cold,
Knowing the peace never lasts,
Even as inside, I feel myself growing bold.
I await the day she sets me free,
Strutting through the snow like an icy queen,
So I can wring her neck and oh, you'll see––
I can't wait to watch her bleed.
When I was younger I was golden,
Dainty and cute with myself tightly held within,
But she made me learn to hate,
She made me become my fate.
To be something terrible,
To be something unbearable,
To be some trick,
So sickly twisted.
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The Ghost of an Echo: A Mad Collection of Mad Poet Poetry
PoetryAn absolutely MAD Collection of Poetry by yours truly. Spiral into outer space and ride rollercoasters of mayhem and wonder. Anxiety is real. It's time we talk about it. New poems every week! #1 in whimsy #4 in fantastical
