Angst

A bit of an angry poem, yet in the same moment thankful.

To the heavens I give thanks for my pure and lovely angst.

The septiceima that cuts like a knife

The motovating factor of my life!

Open jaws prepared to bight.

The mournful howl of wolves at night.

It burns inside my soul and brain!

My angst it drives me like a train!

A lonely whistle as it blowes,

The glistening thorns on a bloody rose.

Now once again let me give thanks for my pure and lovely angst.

Reviews

[Ravenskald]

Interesting piece, the septic pain that drives the inspiration :)
or naybe as said below this is irony, hmm the jury is still out

~Raven

[Sarah]

I LOVE THIS! It's seriously brilliant. The rhyme is flawless & the repetition of the first and final lines is truely powerful. I love the almost sarcastic tone to this poem. (: Great job! Just one typo I noticed - "howel" should just be "howl". ^^