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branwell kent

Updated: 8 days ago

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It's coming at me through the trees A Pumblechookian monster Invisible to human eyes. "You cad," I say, "you bounder, You shervishable villain," And still it struggles onwards, Growing in stature with every word I mutter... Will somebody please tell me why I'm so terribly afraid, Always so terribly terribly terribly... And now it's raining as well Isn't that just typical? A Pumblechookian monster Singing in the rain, And me, a lonely old Dick Swiveller, Pennyless, yet strangely hopeful, Having to go without breakfast To feed my darling Marchioness.

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<Deleted User> (22247)

Wed 10th Jul 2019 22:02

No, there is no suspense here at all!

A Pumblechookian monster will be shervished by any half-way competent halberd-bearer loyal to the crown!

Surrender not! No, never surrender!

Fear is the ticking of a clock. The dawning of a day. The passage of the sun.
Fear is the growth of hunger, the resurfacing of thirst. Fear is time unplanned for....

Fear fears the planning of a day. Even that. Shervish fear forever!!!

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Wed 10th Jul 2019 21:37

Welcome to Wol....i quite like your sample poem.

There is a saturation point for everything beyond which nothing pain, no fear, no loneliness....HOPE and SURRENDER!!

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