This is a tale of a boy in lost vale.
So crude and unadorned are his reveries,
Suppressed by pencil drawn memories,
He swears to die with every waking eye.
His dreams are carried by
dormant winds,
Golden bricks before him paved with sins,
Is he to denounce misery or suffer in agony?
Bitter, euphoric, self inflicted pain,
Ardent heart tainted by sinful disdain.
Here starts the life of
servitude,
Silent are the words spoken in solitude.
An eternity spent pondering his purpose,
Rope around his neck, a bitter nuisance.
The sounds of war echoed by gongs,
Aching memories turned time bombs.
This is not the time to
reminisce.
He swears to ascend as he clenches his fists.
Suppress, oppress and stop to digress!
This is life and not a game of chess!
He ponders his move, black is the tomb,
Weakness, disparity, everlasting gloom.
Defeated, he curls up in his Mother's womb.
It's hard to imagine yet
harder to forget,
The things he's done without regret,
Putrid, rancid thoughts flooding his head.
Indiscretions and imperfections, a dread disease,
He walks tall, treading on his knees.
For some, salvation is hard earned,
But he pledges to Her, he will get his turn.
His mangled spirit lies in dismay,
Yet he swears to die another day.
One can only imagine things some people go through in their lives? While we sit here in our country, safe, and free of war and tryranny.
My hand goes out to you my friend, if you ever need a pull out from these tragic past memories...
I'm glad you escaped your country's civil war, and are safe now, I can't even think how that would be to leave my home for such a reason as that, but you have to... if you are a survivor, which you are.
It's nice to think that things happen for a reason, and that you are here, to share your story, your triumphs, and your, regrets.
What I've seen so far, you are doing a fine job at that, and you should be proud, of the man you've become.
The Alpha part, yes, that has come and gone now.
Do us a favor, with that Terminus side, and stretch that out as long as you can.
This world needs people like you around, and so do the people who inhabit it.
Antonio
People have already commented about the emotional aspect of the poem. There is not much else I can add to it, except that writing such a poem requires courage. Bravo for that. I must say, I am pleased with the technical aspect of the poem. You add an extra line with every stanza, and the poem gets more and more rhythmic as you progress. Maybe it is a reflection of how life has become increasingly difficult, and yet, the rhythm suggests you still have hope to cling on to.
Great job!
When our hearts are broken, we start to see cracks in everything. Yet, through those cracks, we often see the light. We all struggle within, with our own trials and tribulations, our own private wars if you will. I can only imagine the heartbreak that comes from actually surviving a war, battle-worn and weary, and trying to march onward when all you want to do is rest.
I have found that we never know the limits of our own strength until we call upon it in our hour of need. The sorrows and suffering make us more resilient than we will ever know.
One can only imagine things some people go through in their lives? While we sit here in our country, safe, and free of war and tryranny.
My hand goes out to you my friend, if you ever need a pull out from these tragic past memories...
I'm glad you escaped your country's civil war, and are safe now, I can't even think how that would be to leave my home for such a reason as that, but you have to... if you are a survivor, which you are.
It's nice to think that things happen for a reason, and that you are here, to share your story, your triumphs, and your, regrets.
What I've seen so far, you are doing a fine job at that, and you should be proud, of the man you've become.
The Alpha part, yes, that has come and gone now.
Do us a favor, with that Terminus side, and stretch that out as long as you can.
This world needs people like you around, and so do the people who inhabit it.
Antonio
I truly do believe that some of the best work that we produce as writers stems from our own experiences. Many of my works are, which ones are for you to decipher. How much of this is biographical is not my place to question. I can tell you that the poem has reduced me to tears. And I think that's all of a critique you need from me.
I feel the pain, a wish to change.. sins and past transgressions.
I like this poem though it has much sadness and despair... life is such for many.
Very heartfelt and emotional.Many good lines in this poem.
The name is Ivan - I'm 31. I am originally from Bosnia and Herzegovina. I left my country in 94 because of the civil war. After emigrating, my family lived in France for 2 years before coming to Canad.. more..