"The little hut"
Far away from us, stuck on a hill,
nobody could have seen-
the deal.
Left alone, freezing and old,
a woman awaited-
for too long.
"No movement yet", she may have thought,
there could be, still-
a little hope.
Outside, the wind hugged the snow,
small dots appeared-
above the lawn.
Tired and starved, she glimpsed again,
in the distance, a figure-
was moving ahead.
Walking slowly, looking mad,
the woman rushed out-
of the little hut.
Inside the trap, a crow got caught,
all for the old woman-
it was her work.
No other chance, not enough time,
she had to prepare fastly-
in order, for life.
She grabbed the cage, the guest was gone,
nobody was there-
wandering around.
She shut down the door, the time has come,
the crow wasn't afraid, but-
it heard a laugh.
The old woman waited enough,
the cage was opened-
no crow bursted out.
She kicked the trap, there was no meaning,
after all of it-
where was the crow hiding?
Only some acorns were inside,
but why did it happen-
during that night?!
A snow fall started, there's no going back,
some acorns could work too-
in the woman's stomach.
She bent on her knees, starting to grab,
every piece she could-
so she would survive.
Some knocks came slowly from the door,
should have the old woman-
asked for something more?
She barely could walk on the floor,
there was no time-
for opening the door.
The old woman swallowed the fare,
easier that way because-
no teeth were there.
The knocking stopped, a window opened,
for the woman it seemed like-
the guest was bothered.
The fare tasted good, but it wasn't enough,
she prayed to find more-
only to survive.
During the desperate search after food,
more snow fell on the floor-
she did all she could.
Tears appeared over the woman's cheeks,
she thought it was the cold-
could she have been sick?
She didn't stop, the window froze,
the fight with the snow-
seemed to be a loss.
She crawled to her bed, trying to forget,
about the cold, hunger-
the crow she has met...
The door finally opened, few steps were heard,
the guest probably entered-
that could take a turn.
The old woman's eyes saw the crow,
she couldn't reach it-
the crow stood above her.
The bird started to laugh,
now it was her turn-
her time to be rough.
The crow played with the woman's "nest",
pulling it, pushing it, making agony-
for the woman's rest.
It was the crow's moment to rise,
nibbling, scratching the woman-
to make her pay the price.
The old woman screamed, but all in vain,
the crow happily wished her-
all of the pain.
Some steps were heard again, closer this time,
a tall and black figure, enjoyed-
staring at the crime.
The old woman barely saw the guest,
but it was clear after all-
he didn't come to help.
About this poem
With this poetry I wanted to bring back the true meanings of horror themed works of art as well as the reason we, the humans, should not fight against death. Nobody on this Earth is immortal, that's being said within the title which represents the most modest house a human can have and/or fighting with the poverty, but it can be assimilated with the cage later on. This time, an old woman tries to overcome death, by ignoring the messages the Death sent her before reaching in person to her. The first appearance is taken far from the hut, stalking the quiet land during the chill winds of winter and waiting for the woman to die in peace at an advanced rate of living. But it doesnt happen like that like we all know. The woman catches a crow that tried to find some food. Then she rushes out to collect the cage and to cook the crow within the time she's given (if you follow the poetry, you will notice that the word "time" is a lot used especially when there SHOULDN'T HAVE happened a more »
Written on September 17, 2022
Submitted by Jay~ on September 17, 2022
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:50 min read
- 1 View
Quick analysis:
Scheme | Text too long |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic trimeter |
Characters | 2,683 |
Words | 557 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 96 |
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