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Joan of Arc

Fire surrounds her
Cold hard eyes gazing at the crowd
Uttering not a word unlike the thousands before her
As the silent air tastes of betrayal
The heat consumes her body
Onlookers turn away, trying not to meet that shivery gaze
"We're doomed. We just killed a saint," someone whispers eerily.
Joan of Arc.



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PinkSilverfish said...
Nov. 1, 2011 at 6:59 pm:

Very good! :)

Love the imagery, the hot/cold contrast and the synecdoche! 

It's also very dark... which apparently was your goal so spot on! Goosebumps. Write more poetry!

 
PinkSilverfish replied...
Nov. 1, 2011 at 7:01 pm :
OH MY GOODNESS I FEEL DUMB. I meant synesthesia not synecdoche. Synecdoche is just fun to say.
 
NintaiKyouboku replied...
Nov. 2, 2011 at 8:33 am :
Thank you! :)
 
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