Jump to content
The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Dead Pen


whynotsin

Recommended Posts

Nothing to say

It wouldn’t matter anyway,

There is no one left to hear,

The mighty halls of the keep are empty.

The chatter died down,

Consumed by the wind.

 

Every one gone nothing left to say,

The dreamers have left her walls.

The crows no longer caw

And magic no longer here

 

The sword prevailed after all.

Edited by whynotsin
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Heh.

It feels that way sometimes, doesn't it?

 

I know when I've posted something I particularly want feedback on, inevitably Real Life sucks everyone's feedback thoughts away. :P

 

One thing I like about this new board - at least with the view count you can tell if people are reading!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

time is all we have, yet never enough... not sure if someone else said that before... pretty much ppl get busy... ya know... life happens... you'll see... so why rush it?

 

nice poem though, gloomy but nice... would throw a 'y' after ever in the 2nd stanza though...

 

revery

the dreamlost

"i saw a world enchanted" (under your spell,buffy songs)

the dream continues...

Edited by reverie
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I've noticed the phenomenon Peredhil pointed out as well... I've only gotten one comment on the story I posted a few days ago, and that after I mentioned in a conversation that no one had commented...

 

Ahh well.

 

Not sure if you intended to leave the y out of everyone, but you might consider putting it in...

 

A good poem. Life feels like that a lot... the dumb people seem to be winning because there are fifteen of them for every intelligent person.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Alaeha's comment about dumb people greatly outnumbering the intelligent ones sparks a dim memory in Brute's booze-addled brain. "Needed something..flashlights?" he mumbles. With a shrug, his dwindling memory gives way to the ever-present obsession. "Mmm..tasty booze!" Edited by Brute
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...

I wonder if this poem does not speak of the physical disappearance of people within the pen..but more of the mental and sensitivity of certain things that are said within the pen.

 

Or I wonder if it speaks directly of a Pen as in a writing instrument and the feeling that even when one does produce work and publish it that they feel unheard. That the halls within the keep are empty to their ears, that they do not hear themselves nor the voices of the ones they consider close echoing through the busy halls. The chatter could symbolize the playful banter between the poet and their friends, and although people do still chatter amongst themselves the poet does not pay notice as it does not directly include them. Even when in a crowd of people one can still feel very alone. And amid the voices of many, one might feel lost and unheard.

 

The final line could signify the giving up stage of depression where the poet has committed suicide and given up on being heard through the use of their pen as an instrument to relay their thoughts.

 

Obviously from the references to the dreamer and the crows and whatnot my interpretation is probably not correct, but it is an interesting way to look at it.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...