That natural feeling of waking up into just another hell

The Awakening

Early morning mist
slithering through the sunrise
morning day

Saviours lost and hidden
away from living men
the day in someway
has faded to grey
and will never come back again.

Demons waiting patiently
while singin in the mist
'bout all the horrible things
that I would wish could not exist.

Angels choir comes into the blur,
the uprising message of life,
The noise is overwhelming now,
I can end it with my knife.

But the knife is a holy weapon
which only can be used a few times
to slit your throats, you sorry goats,
and I can, 'cause my poetry rhymes.

Poetry by Eron Olivier Braden
Read 806 times
Written on 2006-03-13 at 03:03

Tags Knife  Pain  Insane 

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Jon Hanover
After reading both of your works you have published here, I see the potential. What I also see is perhaps, is adding some variations or making a series from what you have written. There are some great lines, but then there are some that fall flat. I follow my own advice, what I thought was good at one time I go back and rewrite or combine it with another to make it stronger. Just a suggestion is all.

I think your poetry didnt make alot of sense or have a hidden meaning. I also didn't enjoy your last line. Are you saying that only people who ryhme can commit suicide?

Well, I found your poem to be quite interesting, though i must admit it is not the kind i would usually read and comment on...but i see you are quite good at turning a verse and you capture the reader and draw him in ever so write quite well.