Henna stains

The Henna Stains.
Here i am covering my wounds with these henna stains.
Torturing my self by poking what pains.
Wondering about the rude mouth and what it gains,
from hurting people with those words and giving them strains.

Wondering how my heart can bear so much.
It's fragile enough to shatter with the softest touch.
Wondering how it's able to hold all those tears and screams.
Weak and exhausted but still able to frame new dreams.

I wonder about these henna stains so beautiful.
Making me smile and feel pitiful.
Looking at them i always enter a new realm.
Loving and hating them like elm.

I always wonder stairing my henna hands.
Wondering how it's clean like meadows and grasslands.
But still barren and cracked like sands.
Torturing and hurting but still pretty like garlands.

It always starts with excitement , for the henna to be applied,
Like we instantly make people our pride.
Then the henna dries and cracks.
So does heart , when it wacks.
Then we try to wash it all off.
How people can make one an emotional dwarf.

Then the wounds turn orange, red and then black.
That is how it feels when you get stabbed in back.
When the denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance ends.
Towards life, smile, optimism your heart tends.

Washing off the black stains, springs will shower.
Refreshing, beautifying "yemberzal" flower.
Living, walking with love and power.
Pacifistic and slayer of prowar.

Ending of hate, ending of thorne.
Because the henna stains are gone.
Divine

Author's Note

I'm eagerly waiting for your response

Reviews

[Divine]

Thank you very much Jay G my aim to join this page was to get guidance and i am glorified that i was able to find it. Thank you very much for your valuable words and i will try to do better.

[JayG]

You’re too focused on the rhyme, as if it’s the purpose of the line. But in reality, it’s an accent — the tink of a cymbal, not the thud of a drum. The line's focus should be on the thought being expressed, and, the words should never bend to the needs of rhyming.

A line like “Loving and hating them like elm” is obviously placed where it is because you needed a rhyme for realm, but have you, in all your life compared anything to “elm?”

And with:
- - - -
Then the wounds turn orange, red and then black.
That is how it feels when you get stabbed in back.
- - - -
We assume that those undefined “wounds” are not still open when henna is applied, so there’s no pain. So do you really mean that the change in color when henna is washed off is how it feels to have a knife plunged into your back? Naaa.

My point is that here, you’re forcing the line to the needs of the rhyme.

“Towards life, smile, optimism your heart tends.”

Here, speech like Yoda's, it is.

Try this: Grab a read of the excerpts from both Stephen Fry’s, The Ode Less Traveled, and Mary Oliver’s, Rules for the Dance. Then, read the book that resonates best. Both can be immensely helpful in understanding metrical poetry.

And for a great illustration of doing it right, take a read of, The Cremation of Sam McGee.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45081/the-cremation-of-sam-mcgee

It’s over 100 years old, and still has the power to get you nodding in time to the beat, and smiling at the ending.

Hope this helps.

Jay Greenstein
Articles: https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/
Videos: https://www.youtube.com/@jaygreenstein3334

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“It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble. It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.”
~ Mark Twain