PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

She comes to me

Like an ethereal mist,

I am enthralled by her grace,

She invites me to a trist,

As my heart begins to race.



Her hair silvered

In the glow of the moon,

A body delivered,

To make one swoon.



I stand to go

As she beckons me,

And I know

I should flee.



Her power is great

As her body undulates.

Her diaphanous gown separates,

Revealing soft curves to sate.



The power of lust luring me to my doom,

I step over the edge

Plummeting down, down, down,

Eminent death looms.



I awaken with a start,

Look over at the woman,

Who had won my heart.



I realize it was just a dream

As I crash to my death

A blood curdling scream.



By huck hickson