. words are crazy creatures ... sometimes they speak one language and sometimes they speak another language ... it may seem like they're mocking ... but i think that words once etched ... can't mock later ... they actually wail if their meaning is lost ... they plead with us to give them back the life they once had ... they hope that we will treasure them ... however, regardless of whether you agree or not, this is a spectacular piece of writing, monsieur ... the trauma of experiencing something as painful as "a cruel illusion" is expressed with great intensity in your words ... and is heartbreaking beyond measure ...
Your poem seems to be speaking about ancient religious writings and the effect it has on people. Because we have an inbuilt need for spirituality, many forms of holy books have been produced. For some people, the Bible has fulfilled this need. For others it has been a frustrating experience. Where they hoped to build some sort of faith and receive peace and tranquility they were only left with an illusion or mirage. This is actually a failure of organized religion. I don't know if that's what you had in mind but it was what I saw in the poem. Your concise expressions and short lines nevertheless provide us with powerful images to ponder.
Beautiful sparse words, how unsettling the images are... I think as writers we can feel like unconvincing actors; that we are failing an eternal battle to escape our own inbuilt self-critism and language's inadequacy; that our realities are more nonsensical than fiction.
This is very sad (to me) It breaks my heart that there are people that you love that only want to make you hurt, no matter how badly you want to love them, to make things right, sometimes you just have to step off to see them how they really are. Some people are just born cruel.
. words are crazy creatures ... sometimes they speak one language and sometimes they speak another language ... it may seem like they're mocking ... but i think that words once etched ... can't mock later ... they actually wail if their meaning is lost ... they plead with us to give them back the life they once had ... they hope that we will treasure them ... however, regardless of whether you agree or not, this is a spectacular piece of writing, monsieur ... the trauma of experiencing something as painful as "a cruel illusion" is expressed with great intensity in your words ... and is heartbreaking beyond measure ...
For we have thought the larger thoughts
And gone the shorter way.
And we have danced to devil's tunes,
Shivering home to pray;
To serve one master in the night,
Another in the day.
..I do love.. more..