Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The Funeral Portrait This portrait stares back I feel the guilt burn behind those eyes Once full of life Now is the avatar of strife Sunken cheeks What reeks of failure and shame Just another pawn in Life's cruel game In this portrait The birds of prey circle The haunting call of the grave She beckons, do I give in? In this portrait I do not recognize Pins, needles poking and prodding It's starting to crumble to ashes. The moonlight shines through shattered windows. The room is glowing with brilliant rays This portrait now burning Is this what it's like to feel finally alive?
0
Oct 27, 2022
Oct 27, 2022 at 8:18 AM UTC
The Funeral Portrait
The Funeral Portrait This portrait stares back I feel the guilt burn behind those eyes Once full of life Now is the avatar of strife Sunken cheeks What reeks of failure and shame Just another pawn in Life's cruel game In this portrait The birds of prey circle The haunting call of the grave She beckons, do I give in? In this portrait I do not recognize Pins, needles poking and prodding It's starting to crumble to ashes. The moonlight shines through shattered windows. The room is glowing with brilliant rays This portrait now burning Is this what it's like to feel finally alive?
It's loosely inspired by the Portrait of Dorian Grey
Oneofthegreats
Written by
Oct 27, 2022
Oct 27, 2022 at 8:18 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem