Tyger tyger

[Vampirekisses90]

Tyger, Tyger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

 

In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?

 

And what shoulder, & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

 

What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

 

When the stars threw down their spears

And water'd heaven with their tears,

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

 

Tyger, Tyger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

 

i dont know what it is about this poem, but itpulls me into it and sets me on a road of words flowing from my imagination, hope you enjoy it as well

[Kael]

A doll in the doll maker's house

looks at the cradle and bawls,

"That is an insult to us"

 

But the oldest of the dolls,

seen, being kept for show,

generations of his sort

out-screams the whole shelf,

 

"Although there's not a man

can report evil

of this place,

The man and woman bring,

hither, to our disgrace

a noisy and filthy thing.

 

Hearing him moan and stretch

the doll maker's wife if aware

her husband has heard the wretch

and crouched by the arm of his chair

she whispers into his ear

head upon shoulder lent;

 

"My dear, my dear, oh dear

it was an accident."