All Mad Men Die

Written at fourteen.

Stale winds echo in the emptiness of the trees,
Frozen embers set the landscape to a sleep.

 

(See the Dead Man)

 

His eyes ablaze with a hallowed plea,
He screams with an echo long faded free,
On display as what the foolish pay for fee.

 

(Enters the Mad Man)

 

Sanity lost when the wind took sun's heat,
His tears set ornament on violet cheeks,
Now drowns his mind in winter's heart beat.

 

(Dead is the Mad Man).

And repeat.

Reviews

[J. A. Lucero]

I really liked the words you use to describe the different elements of the poem. They didn't just make me see it, they made me feel it. And I think the title is good the way it is, it captures all of the characteristics of the poem. I really enjoyed it, great job.