Challenge
Challenge of the Month XXXIX
Write a short poem about your own private Hell. The tortured who reigns gets 100 big ones. Winner will be picked by Prose. Go.
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The Ideal Taunt
Obsessed with nothing
Stumbling endlessly on a loop
Feelings are numbing
Unable to find a troop
Eyes travel with nowhere to land
Heart stays out of it, indifferent to plans
Feet remain fixed, awaiting command
A better version of me
That knows what he wants
The ideal me
A vision that haunts
Alone on the sea
Adrift,
as a dilettante