The good die young

Truth fades when darkness invades

The good die young

I better reach that tenth top rung,

Of my staircase to heaven.

At this hour, of nearly eleven,

As blood drains from my fearless face,

Goosebumps gather, all in haste.

I wish my weakness could make me stronger,

Please make me bad, so that I can live longer.

Reviews

[Konigin]

This spoke to me... Not sure why...

The good do have the tendency to die young... And I like how you twisted it into a plea to make your weakness into strength by giving into an evil act...

Hauntingly good. :) Bravo

[SleeplessVolcano]

Thanks Chelsea....:)

[Konigin]

Welcome! :)

[Shane Mohamed]

There is a great sense of humor to this poem. It made me giggle. Simply beautiful. Thanks for sharing.

[SleeplessVolcano]

Thanks Shane.....I read it again, and now I agree, there is a shade of humor in it.....:)

[~]

From now on, you are not allowed to be alone and awake at the nearly eleven hour :)

[SleeplessVolcano]

Agreed. Though just because an observation is correct, reality tends to continue allowing that which burns holes in lonely souls.....:)

[~]

Then let's rewrite history!

[SleeplessVolcano]

You're on!

[Valkyrie Warrior]

Wow what a beautiful and haunting poem! I love it!

[SleeplessVolcano]

Thanks a lot!

[Valkyrie Warrior]

You are very welcome