Parmenion Posted May 14, 2003 Report Share Posted May 14, 2003 Wrote this a while ago - I know its a bit long but try bearing with it, would like to hear your comments - good, bad or indifferent Bound by chains hammered so perfectly, The blacksmith’s hand and his own are the same, Adorning hopes with jewels made of dreams, Memories lack lustre – appreciation is lost, A solitary figure moves alone in the tower, Moons and suns circle a deserted world, Barren of people but thriving without, Within is a search, The Muses keep whispering, Forward the future that past has denied, Still, future must happen when there is life. Rolling thunder, forked lightning, sheets of ice-rain, Threaten to shred the soul and forge it from pain, Solace is pursued but the Eye cannot be found, Emotion the tempest inflicted on self, The root is a magpie not yet in flight, The sill of a Gothic arch is leaned upon heavily, Stained glass windows negate silence as opened. Fresh breezes enter like children exploring, Drapes are flapped and paper is rustled, Old furniture creaks, disapproval is evident, A dove flies into the room as the portal is closed. Withering blooms beneath the shadow of a wall, Charm abandoned with the departure of Sol, Weeds, the nightmares to strangle a flower, Insects do not visit, No chance of replanting. Dove alights on the table and drops a leaf from its beak, A hop, a flutter to the unfinished meal, Footsteps echo as the figure approaches, The leaf is picked up and a closer look taken, Melody of heart plays upon his throbbing mind, As he turns and leaves to walk isolated halls. Too frightened to test the strength of dream’s bubble, Too curious to let it drift away, Pondering a moment of a realm now forgotten, Expected existence is distant, Smothered by a Hollow. Dawn hails a chirp and an end to sleep’s bliss, The Defiler is roared at, the chamber is fled, His hand hurls a curio that shatters on the wall, A name is whispered softly between angry sobs, Acidic tears burn through the chains, Still, future must happen when eyes are dried. Ice expands in the cracks and weakens foundations, The best laid bricks of the walls crumble with time, This Ivory Tower was not built to last, He ventures outside, Sounds of collapsing, Seething atmosphere of World envelopes his being, The Lost Dryad waits at the edge of the glade, Dove takes wing to an opposite branch, She hurls a conker at the perplexed figure, Then leaves with the Nymphs but glances back once, Dove flees from the woods while he trudges in pursuit. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Elwen Posted May 14, 2003 Report Share Posted May 14, 2003 How much mythology do you read? This is a lovely work, and I wish I could write like this...*smiles at him and bows in reverence* Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
WrenWind Posted May 14, 2003 Report Share Posted May 14, 2003 Rolling thunder, forked lightning, sheets of ice-rain, Threaten to shred the soul and forge it from pain, Solace is pursued but the Eye cannot be found, Emotion the tempest inflicted on self, Something about this struck me . I enjoyed this very much Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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