So this is a creepy, disturbed, twisted poem..you should probably just skip over this one.
A fire burns,
alone in the dark.
I see the tiny glow
A scented candle,
standing tall on the windowsill.
A smell of lilac wafting by
in hushed tones
her parents speak,
whispering words of love.
To bad she must die.
A smile plays upon her tiny lips,
as she closes her small eyes.
She falls asleep
thinking she's safe,
but I lurk just outside.
I have a job to do,
a grisley one at that.
A small owl flies into the night,
landing just inside her open window.
It smells so fresh in here,
like a garden in full bloom.
I look upon her sleeping form in wonder,
hooting softly as I contemplate my task.
I tip my wing, lightly tapping the candle
oops. To bad it had to end this way.
The candle falls onto her bed,
the flames already growing big.
I quickly soar back into the night
with visions of her burning in my head.
So I really have NO IDEA why I wrote that, and well..yeah, I think I probably need help. If you know a good psychiatrist or psychologist, please feel free to give me their number!
