Last Halloween
The leaves seemed to paint the sky,
With orange, yellow, and red,
As the lady as pale as the moon,
Mumbled, and crawled out of bed
It was silent at first,
Not a shadow to be seen,
On this twisted, and dark,
Late halloween
The door bell had rang,
But not a kid in sight,
Only a small letter left on the doorstep,
Readable in candle light
She
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The Chamber
A dark envious flame, flickering ever so small
Casting a pitiful looking silhouette along the crimson colored wall
Torture and muffled screams heard far away
Causing the weak minded to fall over and sway
Continuous beatings of a chain
Pain that no one would ever dare to feign
Skulls resting in layers of dust
Axes, shackles and spears left in their spots to rust
A rotten scent wafts through the air
Finishing off the corpses that remain there
A lonely chamber, filled with a dieing mans cry
The torturers only care, when they shrivel and die
I recently wrote this poem
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Seriously, very, very good. And I also love that writing style. It's one I can't do very well at all, but you manage to pull it off! Props!
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You write very well,
You're talented (:
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