The Broken Mannequin Man

• Artist: Rose of Devastation
• Description: Hello. You can call me Bo.
  Not too long ago, I was put in a shelter. At this place, I wrote this short poem. 'Twas the first time I was taken from home, thus was feeling lost.
  It is based on a story I would like to write when I'm older - or rather - based on a character in it.
  The words/the story of the poem is a pure metephor about this specific character, and if you would like to know more about him, (what the metephors mean), I don't mind telling :)
• Date: 01/31/2009
• Tags: broken mannequin suicide darkness ghosts

A broken mannequin man
lay limp upon a black floor,
surronded by four black walls. The room is empty,
and he lay with his hand extended in a misery cry
that took his last breath.
And in this hand,
tenderly rested a red rose, long, black fingernails
half-clenched amongst it, as if they once attempted
to keep it prisoner
in pungent, pale bars.
And behind this rose,
lay an open wrist, a merciless slit done by a little
girl.
Her name and ghost was Rose,
(her cheeks had told him so,
the smell of her hair)
her thorns now pricked and leaked him, and left his
porcelain face cracked and broken from a motionless
fall.
Quiet blood strips from the creases, running down in
precious drips
upon his cold , hard, white skin.
His eyes are dead, but nonetheless peircing with
milken whine,
poisened with happiness,
sweetened with insanity,
as if he still lived.

Comments

[adek_wolf]

wow. dark and deep.
another edgar? smile kudos.

[Atamous_Reiki]

Is Very nice, Very......Dark, New Century and has a bit of senseless but desperate romance in it....I LIKE LOTS 5/5