Victim of Life

3 Comments

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  • Dark Poetry

    Victim of Life
    Forever and a day it seems
    Since I became reborn
    I'm beginning to feel my age
    Withering, ragged and worn

    500 years I have survived
    Many lives I have seen pass
    Loved ones I have watched come and go
    Like breathing on a pane of glass

    Sometimes I just don't understand
    Why I keep struggling to survive
    And pass myself off as something else
    That is not even near alive

    I just can't seem to comprehend
    The point of this so called life
    For there is nothing more for me
    Than endless pain and strife

    The life of an immortal
    Is not all it's made out to be
    Nothing could have prepared me for this
    No absolution or redemption for me.

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    symmetry commented on Victim of Life

    09-18-2009

    Wow, I sense the futility and understand it well, but your words are too well put together to falll victim to that childhood of immortality that you call pain and strife. Life goes beyond your 500 years and I bet it is willing to smile in twilight and say, mercy, you've come along way. I enjoyed this
    Reply to Comment

    Vampi

    09/18/2009

    Thank you for the comment. I guess, in retrospect, you are absolutely right. What I tried to portray here was that eternity as a vampire would probably not be all it's cracked up to be, not all peaches and cream. However, you make a great point, and I feel I have covered the other side of this coin in some of my other dark poems. So glad you enjoyed.

    Dusty commented on Victim of Life

    05-05-2009

    Wonderful!
    Reply to Comment

    caverox101 commented on Victim of Life

    04-02-2009

    Sweet, stuff.
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

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