Cracks and Withered Peaks

not sure what to say right here about this

We climb these moutain ranges

we wander these winding roads

always searching, screaming

trying to find a way

to make sense of why

were here day by day

some way to make

sense of this life

but only to find

dead ends and withered peaks

instead of answers

we find this disease

always blindly stumbling

instead of actively trying

to be one of the living

silence those hollow voices

asking questions that lead

to a lonely grave

silence the voices

and cease the search

nothing to find

there are no answers

I climb these mountains no more

for there is no higher place

I wander these broken roads no more

for no answers will be found

amongst the cracks

its time for us

to turn back home

and live our lives

or die alone

 

Author's Note

i know its not that great but i like the concept so let me know what you think i could do to better this.

Reviews

[Rusty]

Personally I cannot find any flaws. The only suggestion I have is to let it steep and when you revist it perhaps you will find I way to enhance the flavor. I personally like to break touts into stanzas of 3or 4 lines. You may play with that.

I enjoy the path his read takes me on.

[Ian Faraway]

The flow of this and the metaphor behind the images that you drew were just breathtaking. I enjoyed reading this. Only real bone I have to pick is when you said 'were' and not 'we're', kind of a grammar nazi thing with me, I knew what you meant, of course. J'adore! -Ian

[FocusedAmnesia]

I like that it's continuous, with no breaks or punctuation. I think, with the way it begins, that it adds to the feel of the piece; winding, searching, trying to find your way.

[Carrion.]

I really love the whole idea of this.