The first lines I wrought, was a joke and a hoax. A child with a pen, imagination ran thin. This is why my first poem, was just a joke from within.
a riddle came to mind and a battle raged inside. For it fought and persisted whether to be riddle or rhyme.
Riddle of the demon ment to trick those who hide. Rhyme of the angels To comfort the kind. Hellfire scorches all light from the sky. Angels become violent for the sake mankind.
Ok so I find this interesting mostly because I don't recall writing it. It has to do with my other two poems on here. But I wrote this just a few months ago I'm guessing.
do I speak in riddles? Or just in rhyme? I have no time for rhyme, so I speak in riddles so riddle me this do you play with a fiddle? Or a flute on a lily pad with soft clouds in mind? Or do you play for the devil in own spare time. Well I tell you this sir I play in my mind, with thoughts of demons, not angels, not heaven. heaven I can question, disprove and not find but demons oh demons they're real in my mind.
Second "poem" much darker place here ha. Written about 2 years after my first.
Farewell thy lover, farewell thy mate, For my soul must go on to a distant place. To another dimension with no rich, nor poor. To another dimension with no worries to bore. And its there I shall wait for my lovers return, and its there I shall stay till our love be reborn.
I wrote this when I was 15. First one ever.
— The End —