Critique my poem?

[Anza]

The Monster Within

What scares you?
What makes your skin crawl and the hairs on your arms stand up?
What makes the blood dance in your veins and chills sprint up your spine?
What makes your heart race in your chest and the flesh beneath your skin crawl?
What frays the very edges of your being and makes you mad with fright?

Is it the wind? The way it stops before a storm, or howls throughout?
What about the night? Fleeting notions of demons dancing around your bed?
Is it times past, or days present?
Is it the wild footfalls of a dancing flame? Or a lonely animals lament?
Is it the memories of a lost love, what could have been— what was?
Is it the hush before a storm, when the zephyr's moist breath seeps into your skin?
Is it rejection? Loving, but not being loved in return?
Is it the darkness that paralyzes your body to let your mind race of it's own accord?

Or — do you find that you scare yourself; that you dwell on the unseen monsters, or the demons at your feet.
Do you remember the forgotten love, or the shattered kiss?
Do you seek the Coyote's Song or the Eagle's Cry?
Do you strike a match to watch the flame dip and twirl?
Do you love more than you could ever expect to be loved in return?
Or— do you look for darkness... only to find that the darkness is inside of yourself?

Look in the mirror; the monster lies there!

[Bakiryu]

OOOH, chilling! *hugs pretty poem*

[Anza]

aww! you critiqued! you're my hero!
It is kinda creepy, huh?

[Bakiryu]

I quite like it. Very Poe-ish.

[Pendragon]

Very nice once you got past the first line, which doesn't need changing now that I've read the rest. One suggestion. This line: Or a lonely animals lament? Change to Or a lonely loon's lament?

[blazeofglory]

The Monster Within

What scares you?
What makes your skin crawl and the hairs on your arms stand up?
What makes the blood dance in your veins and chills sprint up your spine?
What makes your heart race in your chest and the flesh beneath your skin crawl?
What frays the very edges of your being and makes you mad with fright?

Is it the wind? The way it stops before a storm, or howls throughout?
What about the night? Fleeting notions of demons dancing around your bed?
Is it times past, or days present?
Is it the wild footfalls of a dancing flame? Or a lonely animals lament?
Is it the memories of a lost love, what could have been— what was?
Is it the hush before a storm, when the zephyr's moist breath seeps into your skin?
Is it rejection? Loving, but not being loved in return?
Is it the darkness that paralyzes your body to let your mind race of it's own accord?

Or — do you find that you scare yourself; that you dwell on the unseen monsters, or the demons at your feet.
Do you remember the forgotten love, or the shattered kiss?
Do you seek the Coyote's Song or the Eagle's Cry?
Do you strike a match to watch the flame dip and twirl?
Do you love more than you could ever expect to be loved in return?
Or— do you look for darkness... only to find that the darkness is inside of yourself?

Look in the mirror; the monster lies there!


Your poem is thrilling and really it touched me. Yes In Nepal we have a proverb. Proverbs can not find equivalent words and meaning in another language at all. And for that matter they are not translatable.

Yet I give some translation:

There are two monsters. One crawls in the jungle and the other howls in your mind. The one in your mind is more awful than the one in the jungle, for the one in the jungle is tamable and the one in the mind is unconqurable.

[wagravity]

i really enjoyed this poem. the questions that no one asks. i like the darkness of it.

it was a good read