Terror, a newborn awakened, and
Finding his world now very changed.
Screams his wrath to this new land,
Filled with sounds too loud and strange.

Later in life, he stares too long
At the darkness thick with danger.
Where his mother just sang her song,
Of sweet dreams, but switched off his savior.

Then years go by, and he finds a mate.
Wrought with lust and infatuation,
Gives his passion and realizes too late,
That such can lead to many a creation.

Now, he stands by, watching the birth,
So like his own, and yet so much more.
The fear then holds no candle to this girth,
They both wilt, he vows to even the score.

The terror now is not his own.
He clings tightly to the gun and fires.
He reaps now what fear has sown.
And kills, and kills, this that terror sires.

-- Dawn (darkdeathanie@hotmail.com), July 21, 2002

Answers

I am sure that you can pick out the stanzas and the rhythm. I didn't realize it would post that way, I apologize.

-- Dawn (darkdeathanie@hotmail.com), July 21, 2002.

Actually I think it'd work better as prose! :)

-- Cam (wikked_which@hotmail.com), July 21, 2002.

I'll try to fix it. remember your <'br> tags.

-- Kant (kant@kant.com), July 22, 2002.

*snugs Kant* Thank you so much!...I'm hopeless when it comes to HTML...I really appreciate it...it looks a lot better now

-- Dawn (darkdeathanie@hotmail.com), July 22, 2002.

wow, nice work. I've dabbled in some poertry and to me, it could go either way, poetic prose or in rhyming stanzes with just a little tweaking either way, but over all the poem is good.

-- Jaer (brosmagi@hotmail.com), July 22, 2002.