Death by Poetry

The words looked harmless at first, standing there dressed up (or is it down?)
in their elegant despondency. Beckoning
each passer-by with delicate wares made up of images like “palest eyes of Sunday blues” and “languid Friday.” A mere glance was all it took for their siren’s song to be unleashed. Weaving through the air, they danced in slow motion, falling, burrowing through
creases of skin and tears and “have mercy” and wreaked their way through lungs and fingertips and memories tinged in shades of coral. The human heart stood not a chance. Beating out its last, an almost-whisper echoed on the breeze—
Is this exquisite death or
excruciating
bliss?

This poem is an ode to Rachel’s poem, Sunday hues. Read it and fall hysterically in love, get your heart mangled in the process, and walk away a better person for it all.

 

 

*Photo from ArtStation by Alexey Popov

Author: ebonyandcrows

Hello and welcome to my page~ My name is Larisa--a very common Slavic name that was either derived from the Latin word hilaris, meaning "cheerful," or from the Greek city of Larissa, meaning "strong fortress." Born in Ukraine, I emigrated with my family to America when I was still a small child and now make my home in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. Growing up immersed in two vastly differing cultures led me to have a burning curiosity about people all over the world. Stemming from said curiosity, I have fallen in love with traveling to other countries, meeting new people and delving into their culture, exploring new cities, and of course, dining on the local cuisine! If I cannot escape into a different country, then my next favorite method of adventure is to lose myself in a spectacular book. I enjoy books of all genres--from fiction and novels, to biographies and ethnographies. As long as it captures my fancy and holds me spellbound the entire time, I will burn through the book like a forest fire! Because of this penchant for reading and travel, coupled with my love of deep and mysterious things, I have been often called a dreamer and I find the title suits me. With that being said, I invite you to stay a while, perhaps make yourself a cup of tea and linger through my posts and feel free to comment or share a thought :-)

30 thoughts on “Death by Poetry”

  2. I can’t even begin to respond to this in a way that conveys how I feel. Your words are beautiful, and their effect on me, best conveyed in your words,

    “Is this exquisite death or
excruciating
bliss?”

    I think what I am feeling is both. I am so incredibly humbled, how can I even begin to say thank you. If my words evoke emotion in someone else, honestly that is the biggest compliment. And your words have certainly done this to me. You are an incredibly talented writer yourself.

    Still melted, like a candle, on the floor. Thank you. ❤️❤️

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    1. You write from such heights of sublime beauty we mere mortals can only dream of aspiring to. Sigh. Also, you’re very welcome, it was only natural that someone’s overflow of emotion spilled out in some way in response to your poetry ♥️

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  3. “exquisite death or
    excruciating
    bliss?”
    Perhaps, excruciating bliss because it is an exquisite death – exquisite just like your words here! Enchanting, dark and piquant – this is so artistic ❤

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    1. Good morning and thank you for stopping by, Tom. Good writing has a way of doing that, doesn’t it—transporting the reader to draw an infinite amount of perspectives at any given moment. I appreciate your comment ♥️

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