I love the mood here. Dark and foggy. I'm not the greatest judge of poetry, so I kind of go by whether it strikes a chord within me, and this one does. So in my mind, it's a great poem. I like the feeling that is produced when I picture a young woman standing in murky darkness and feels no fear, but a strength from within that sustains her. I like this one very much!
Should you find peace and balance in such a place you're are blessed. A few years ago I was faced, in a similar setting, with the energy I've projected . It haunts me to this day ... nothing can compare. good wording ... good to know it can be undone.
"The trees and sky are obscured by thin wisps of milky air
But though the fog closes in, no fear envelops her"
{Nice Image Painted Here}
"All of her heroes are long dead
But heroes only fall from their pedestals"
{I Love This---Great Poetry!!!}
Out of all honesty, I love the story, the setting, where it starts and ends.
But I don't think that the poetry format suits the story well as a whole.
Perchance you should extend the writing to make it a story, or concise it to make it a poem.
But all around, it's a great story that makes you wonder.
Comfortably numb, is the phrase that comes to mind after reading this poem. The disillusionment and pain caused by life's gradual vicissitudes eventually brings strength in many different guises. In this case, it is in grim acceptance and endurance to something one has become inured to. The poem is written with a genuine, sincere, and cold intensity; a resigned sensibility seeps through the lines and the phrasing. Intelligently conveyed and well-crafted, leaving behind an impression rather like a proud stonemason's signature on a tombstone.
But she is no longer the child that walked these paths.
this is an insightful beauty I want to read all the work of your mind Play in the back yard rearrange your furniture and leave the door ajar
I am Alice through the looking glass...I mix my metaphors with barbiturates. I take my mania with a glass of milk and I rarely look before crossing the street. Walk a mile in my mary janes, friend.
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