Scales colder tan ice blaze brighter than an ever flickering flame,
In his chest lays a hearth of burning fire,
In his remorseless heart lay droplets of ice.
Eyes that turn skin into a sickly pallor,
Claws that shred the sturdiest to mere ribbons of flesh and bone,
Blood so black that night held a blinding radiance.
With his tongue he can smell your dread and taste your fear,
He holds wisdom unlike any other,
Yet expresses a toxic greed.
His bed crafted from jewels,
Gold,
And the many treasures he stole.
Trapped in a slumber,
Unless quenching the hunger he could not satisfy,
Or when one chose to face him.
When his death came all was gone,
No hunger left,
Gratitude was all he felt.
- J.K.
A/N - This poem is not actually mine. It was written by someone I know and he gave it to me to use here. I am currently still unsure of its meaning therefore the title may not reflect the poem accurately. I have to admit though this is quite good, in fact better than what I have written so good job to him.
That's all, and hopefully I will have another poem up here shortly.
Thanks for reading!
-E
YOU ARE READING
That Poetry Book
PoetryThis book is a compilation of all original poetry written by me (unless otherwise stated). The poems inside range from love to nature to sports, and everything in between. I'm going to try to incorporate as many genres as possible. This is the firs...
