Wicked

The Black Rose

The Black Rose (Photo credit: rick020200)

I am wicked she said
I am of the night
I am desolate, lost
You cannot fight
My deliberate moves
And my strategy
All the wicked begin
And all end with me

I am wicked she cried
Though not by my choice
I’m the song of the siren
The deadliest voice
And if I once was good
Then I once more may be
But I can’t seem to cease
Living wickedly

Β© Helen Valentina 2013 All Rights Reserved

About helenvalentina

Like most people, I have a number of sides to me. The most interesting one probably emerges through my writing, hence this blog. I love to read, and also to write, and so this is a way to share both.
This entry was posted in Fire, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Wicked

  1. There is always something very sensual about the word ‘Wicked’ for me. I always question the motivation of a wicked person, but I may, as a friend once pointed out, just simply over intellectualising a simple issue. But I like the hidden meanings contained within the word. Maybe I’m just envious??

  2. I can imagine just how wicked. Nice job.

  3. You’re the least wicked person I know! xxxxx

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