A Double Edged Sword

Here lye words of irony

Striking a chord within the core of the wake that awakens our sense of ourselves. Living and breathing while reaching and striving for heights that become our version of a personalized hell. Realization that we are but as a shell. Embroyotic in nature, that of a beast, the opitomy of imperfect perfection, to speak of the least. Our gift is razor sharp. Double edged, it shall slice, through the delicate line, we walk between the wrong, and our belief in the right. Our sword strikes as the terror that haunts us in the dead of the night. To consume, to behoove, to walk toward the light.

Blind are the eyes that guide the path from which we stray. To be rightious, to fall victom, to a widsom for which we pay. The ultimate price; confusion, dillusion, and a final sacrifice. We a driven by the devine, eager to define, the mold that shapes us into a security blanket version of ourself that we have defined. Bow down before the shimmer of the sword the shines upon our humanity, feeds the hungary mouth that fills the gaps of our insanity, but for now we shall suffice. We embrace, we engulf, blank and baffeled is our stare. The fetal postion. The calming warmth. To feel not a care. 

-jr 

Reviews

[Jason]

Well I enjoyed this. This write seems to have struck me as a write about free-will, that the gift of freewill is one of freedom, yet peril. Good job.

[Morgan Ashire]

Not too horribly written. Although, I will say, a few points strayed a little further from the main topic than I had anticipated, which is not always a bad thing, but I will say that this particular piece seemed to drag a bit in some spots. For example, you seemed to loose your cadence from "Bow down," through to "now we shall suffice." I like the word usage and the expansive vocabulary, but, at least to me, something seems like its missing. It could be just my own style talking, but the cadence really doesn't stay too consistent.