For this poem, I chose to put the title in a different language for the reason that if I put the meaning in English, then the readers would just view it as a typical poem that doesn’t have much value. I try, as a poet, to always keep the viewers interested, and so I shall. This was based off of a rather deep idea that some people would die for once they know what it feels like. I gave this poem, a little of my dark style. I’ll leave it to the reader. Comments are open.
Toxicomano
In skeletel forms
They dance.
Dance away
Into their coffins.
The demons
Do this
And that
And hurt themselves
While hurting others
As well.
They’d die
For what
They believe in
And what they sold
Themselves to.
They’re all
Half-dead
Anyway.
Does it really matter
If they kill themselves
In the process.
Of incinerated
And melted
Flesh
They burn
In their own
Hell.
Perhaps
Just leaving them
There
Is the best.
For they will die
For what they sold
Their souls
To.
Even though
That they were once
Human
I can see them
Screaming for help
From the inside.
But let’s face it
No one is coming.
And the skeletal demons
Still dance
To what they sold
Their souls to.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
