The place for writers: Upload your writing in minutes, receive peer feedback from other writers, poets, authors, then get your work published out there in the real world. Learn how other writers are doing it.
we stand in a minefield of discust and despair,engulfing our future in flames,we are weak and censored we killed our gift to human kindnever realizing thr nature of our crimes we have blood on our hands from the life that we lead lying wiyh men and destroying the seed the angels have descended from the heavens above takeing the chosen our souls are lost lonely toowe are so corrupt we cannot comprehend where our soul is going it will be hard to fendthe oceans have ridden the tyde is blood red the moon is dying snuffing its light evil crawls the streetsas th blood flows deep. nowhere to run nowhere to hide for the wicked shall take thir rideand darkness shall prevail now begins the long journey through hell. BY TIFFANY WRIGHT
Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
Wow. I think that this is a very powerful piece and very descriptive, it reminds me of something apocolyptic. However, I would suggest that you serperate your stanzas and use a spell check in the future, as it was difficult to follow when it is all run together like this. I usually use MS Word to type and check my work, and then I copy and paste it here when I am uploading new pieces. Just a suggestion. Love the piece and keep up the great work.
This short story reflects questions we asked as kids about how things were made by God and some of us are still asking some of the same questions (smile)
