As I was looking at some of my academic work from high school, I stumbled across this dreary poem that I wrote for English class. Is dreary the right word to describe it?
Forsaken
We sat as one, my lover and I,
Until that fateful hour drew nigh.
What violent spirit, what incubus,
What devilish prank possessed him thus?
My silent screams, music to mute ears,
His face, it fades, now it disappears.
Cursed wretch, how he betrayed my trust,
I, the innocent victim of lust.
And yet, my heart, if I still possess,
Longs for the touch of his warm caress.
An unearthly light, dispelling fear,
The golden gates of Heaven appear.
Hark! I am summoned. Nay, it is fate
To premature part with my lover of late.
Before me, bliss. Behind, only death.
How can I rest while he still draws breath?
Now, I’ve one goal, and evil the deed,
A fallen angel, vengeance my creed.
The crown of death, my head will assume,
Prepare to suffer! Prepare for doom!





