Hidden demons scourge and mock me.
Crushing me, taxing my fragile soul.
Only your good grace can set me free.
0 ~
Silent derision relentlessly
Trampling my person, my heart, my all.
Hidden demons scourge and mock me.
0 ~
Try as I might, I cannot defeat these
Unassailable fears that enthral.
Only your good grace can set me free.
0 ~
Each day I suffer this constant agony
Of bitter, barbed baptism, appall.
Hidden demons scourge and mock me.
0 ~
A tortured track of sheer mental debris
Ensnaring the good efforts, failing all.
Only your good grace can set me free.
0 ~
Daily I face unforgiving propensity
To falter and fail, throw it all to the wall.
Hidden demons scourge and mock me.
Only your good grace can set me free.
O ~ 0 ~ o ~
O ~ 0 ~ o ~
This is my first attempt at writing a villanelle and I am not entirely sure if this little verse quite makes the grade. Any views expressed in comments would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.
Ray
O ~ 0 ~ o ~
About the Creator
Raymond G. Taylor
Author based in Kent, England. A writer of fictional short stories in a wide range of genres, he has been a non-fiction writer since the 1980s. Non-fiction subjects include art, history, technology, business, law, and the human condition.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from Raymond G. Taylor and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Seventh Step
“It’s a different room every time. Sometimes it’s my grandma’s house from when I was little. Sometimes it’s my college apartment. Sometimes it’s somewhere unfamiliar, but always there are the stairs. I know I have to go up, but I’m afraid. I can feel my heart pounding and I feel sick, but I don’t know why. It’s like my body isn’t mine anymore, and I start up the stairs, and I’m thinking ‘No, stop!’ but I just keep going. When I get a ways up, I try to take another step but, instead, I fall backwards. I can feel myself in the air, just in a panic, nothing to hold on to and no way to stop, just falling, falling, falling until THUMP! And then I wake up.”
By Megan Malcolm8 days ago in Fiction
Comments (12)
I agree with the comments. This was a great first time. So many memorable lines. Well done, Ray!
First attempt? I'd say you nailed it, Raymond. I pray you find the grace every single last one of us so sorely needs. And may you discover that all your hidden demons have been exorcised.
It is absolutely captivating for a first attempt, I enjoyed it thoroughly.
I loved it...great rhythm and content.
An exceptional first vilanelle! 😊👍
Well done! Very creative and lyrical.
Brillinatly done! So powerful and emotive. You're definitely hitting this poetry malarckey on the head! 🤍
Hey Ray. You did it. You totally did it. Super yay!!! The lines that I read over and over were "Each day I suffer this constant agony / Of bitter, barbed baptism, appall." Deep.
Seems to good to me. The verses seemed to flow.
Soooo good. The two repetitive lines were 💯
"A tortured track of sheer mental debris". I really loved this line a lot! I feel that you've executed the Villanelle brilliantly!
They are deceptive for sure. I am so glad you finally made your villanelle!!!!