It seemed to me so sinister
the way the madness led
you into realms of ignorance;
alive but somehow dead.
I saw within your empty eyes,
the evil that now held,
as life turned backward on itself;
the mirrored word of hell.
The letters were no different,
and yet the placement saw,
that one was bright abundance;
the other dark and small.
You could not help the turning,
which scattered all you were
reduced our world to tatters;
birthed fear in place of joy.
I wondered if I grabbed the word
and turned it on its head,
if all would then be righted;
you would return from death.
But magic is for children,
and rarely for those grown,
and evil would still triumph;
your chance to live had gone.

3: singularly evil or productive of evil

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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One Response to Sinister

  1. The image of ‘life turning back on itself’ is a potently effective description of all that is sinister. I felt a sense of dread to understand that evil triumphs. Thanks for sharing this poem.

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