Cursed

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  • Mythical

    Poem Commentary

    Inspiration: Another from my days of vampire obsession.

    Written in NY

    Cursed

     Woe me
    Poor missery
    I fall,
    Revengefull of us all.
    Cursed by the very song
    That brought you here, made you belong.
    Bloody tears drip down my face.
    Where is it, my saving grace
    Everyday another race,
    Nearing the fate that I must face.

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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