Spectre

Behold, I've unearthed a crimson terror,
Soaked by rust and buried by time,
Laying waist to days and days gone by.
The agony, the trecherous cycle,
To live as an echo of pain, terror,
Eternally nowhere, eternally fear.

 

nice, burn! it's full of images, and hauntingly surreal!

 

i like it!!!!!!!!! keep writing

 

Great poem, gotta love the imagry, and the dark tone. Just one thing I gotta correct: laying waste*

 

*Hits head* I always seem to mix waist and waste up.. *sigh*Thankyou though!