The Final Reign

found her here

Midnight comes a young heart thrums

A night unlike seen ages past

The moon is gone and dark is strong

Yet whispers vow to witness last

The icy breeze it wants to freeze

And blow the stars across the sky

Churning ground crawls as a hound

Mad from lack and soon to die

It sings the doom within her womb

The dawn of terror comes full term

And bearing down her scream the sound

That settles deep in man and worm

The very air before so fair

Now blinds with sable tears of pain

And it is born all hope is shorn

And thus begins the final reign

Thanks for reading, off to write!




  1. Anonymous4/8/11 08:34

    Wow. I read it three time and saw three different images in my head. I want to know who/what is giving birth here.
    Loved it, thanks for the chills.
    Kris (Letmepeeinpeace)

  2. beautiful.. it sounded awesome when i read it out loud.Wish i could write poetry..

  3. Thanks Kris very much. The darker stuff is really where my writing passion sits.

    That's awesome Bhargavi...  I mean, that you read it out loud.  Thank you.

  4. Dang, that was good :) Nice to see you again Casey :)

  5. Nice, nice job, Casey.

    The photo caught my interest but the words gave me goosebumps.

    Cheers, jj

  6. Thank you Braja. Nice to see/read you as well.

    Thanks Joanna. I wrote the poem first and then went searching for the picture. It took a long time, but the second I saw it I knew it was the one. It just fit.

  7. I came back and read it again; I was thinking about it this morning, the form you used was good; I like things with that kind of rhythm...your 1&3, 2&4 thing...loved it...

  8. You're neat. :) Thanks Braja. One of my joys of writing poetry is discovering that rhythm in the first lines and then making it flow through the rest of the piece. It doesn't always go, but I'm glad to hear that this one did. You rock.

  9. Well done, Casey, with good effect. The dark words go well with the image and I can conjure a few possible meanings for this poem.

    It could refer to childbirth, to pining after a lost love, or to unrequited love. Or to a political meaning. The ambiguity works well and the words are searing.

  10. Thanks Lynda very much. I appreciate your thoughts. Most of my poems (this one included) find their meaning after they have been written. I can tell you that it is definitely not political.



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