Fatale Attraction

A poems about a girl's obsession with Death.

Fatale Attraction

 

There's a place were lovers meet
under moonlit skies
at the end of Maple Street
where dark passions rise.

 

Here's were shadows play
dancing fancy free
on the edge of day.

 

Growing here from gray concrete
is a paradise,
a lush juvenile retreat
of trees of great size.

 

Underneath its sway
she would hear his plea,
she would be his prey.

 

At the end of Summer's heat,
she would socialize
every Autumn with this sweet
stranger in disguise,

 

but he wouldn't stay
as her fantasy
lest he had his way.

 

Seeking love that was complete
striving for the prize
Death became her goal, her treat.
She believed his lies.

 

Soon without delay
hanging from a tree
Death took her away.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is so dark...he never did love her, he got what he wanted...took advantage of her all that time..

never gave her his love...just took the prize...and finally she gave the last thing she had...her life.

you do pain so well in your poems...and the effect of not being loved, or of not giving love, and what it does to others when we use people.

[Aethereal]

Thanks for your detailed review, jacob! I enjoyed your interpretation of this poem. This tragedy is repeated over and over again through the generations. You're an excellent reviewer.

[Perkele.7885]

A date that this gal was on a bee line for! Well put together word picture that I have reread looking for a reason for this gal's fascination for this particular fella. She was walking a tight rope without a net!

[Aethereal]

Thanks, RAJ! This is a psychological poem, and that fellah is a metaphor for her obsession. Sometimes troubled people personify their obsessions. Many secret obsessions turn out to be fatale.