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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

The tree's rustle in the wind,

And i sigh.

A child skips along the path,

And I cry,

Because I know,

Everything grows up to die.

 

Barks, they burn,

And leaves they fall.

Children grow up

To be strong and tall,

But then they grow old

And have no life at all.

 

They just sit in a home,

Watching life pass them by.

Just looking out the window,

Waiting to die,

Not knowing what's going on

Humming childhood lullabys.

Posted

Arwen! It has been too long.

 

Such a sad poem you wrote. Things do grow old and die but in their time. It is better to enjoy the shade of that tree than lament it's eventual demise. There is a beginning and an end to all things. That truth holds true in your poem.

Posted

Welcome back, fairest of Elves. Golly I've missed having you around =)

 

I see you havent changed your melancholic style much Jass, I like the flow of it, and it made me think of all the things i have taken forgranted but shouldn't, for life is but a fleeting wind...

Posted

Very nice poem, Lady Arwen. It holds the raw truth that we will all eventually die. I agree with what Regel has posted, in closing I would like to say lets live each day like its our last and not hold anything back because who knows when our eventual demise will actually occure. I know that I am not going to be sitting around when there are things that I still have not experienced in this lifetime.

Posted

They just sit in a home,

Watching life pass them by.

Just looking out the window,

Waiting to die,

My own grandmother is a testament to the fact that you can be 80, have 20 major things wrong with you, need 30 pills a day to live (no exaggeration) and surrounded by other people your age, sick and often dying, and still want to be alive.

 

I'm sure you know that - the poem was only meant to reflect one side of the reality - but I needed to say it anyway.

 

Welcome back.

Posted

Welcome back!

 

One thing I want to point out, other than the melancholy subject matter - You used correct spelling and punctuation all the way through!!! It made it MUCH easier to follow. :)Huggles

 

Reminds me of reading of reading the book of Ecclesiastes. It's not the duration of the flower's growth which matters, it's the beauty of the bloom and the scent of the perfume.

 

-P

Posted

Peredhil put it very eloquently but I will add a little...

 

First and foremost, I really anjoyed this poem. Not only were comparisons and relfections well written and thought through but it is a testamony to how you are evolving and branching out as a poet. Congrats on that, am very proud of you hun!

 

Life begins and it eventually ends. There is no grand point to it that I can see other than to fulfil the process itself. Its kind of hard in our society where we are allowed the luxury of individuality to sometimes conceive that we do not matter much or at all in the wheel of life. Individuality sometimes misleads us to believe that we are somehow more important or more significant on a global or universal scale than we actually are as individuals.

 

Having said that (more subjectivity), when we evetually come to terms with the fact that we are "tiny tiny things" :lol: (private joke) and our parts in this never ending cycle are completely if not wholly insignificant then some realisations occur. If this is the case, then nothing that we do matters unless it matters to us. Since we have finite time in which we exist we may as well do as much as we can and meet as many of the other crossed threads (people) on the loom of life. We may twaek or even sometimes change the destiny of some of those threads. Fate may not be pre-determined but the opportunities it presents us with seem to be and therefore we choose our outcome and where to exert our influence (tiny as it is normally) upon this loom of life.

 

The beginning has already happened and there is only one way to escape the beginning...jump straight to the end. An end is pre-determined anyway so there is nothing to be gained by dwelling upon it. Since neither the end nor beginning are relevant or important, all that is important is what happens between those two points. It is down to each individual to choose what occurs and how significant they wish to make their insignificant existence ;)

 

Sorry I rambled all over your thread but I am tired and take ages to say nothing at all. My significantly long insignificant contribution :lol:

 

:wolf:

Posted

I also enjoyed this poem, Arwen, and agree with Parmenion and Peredhil that you've certainly evolved as a poet in your absence. :) I think that this work is beautiful in its simplicity and natural imagery, and agree with Peredhil that it's far more refined and well-adjusted than some of your previous works. The only lines that I didn't care for too much in this piece were the last two lines of the poem, as I feel that "Not knowing what's going on" is a bit less elegently phrased than some of the other lines of the poem.

 

Keep up the good work, I look forward to reading more of your poems. :)

  • 4 weeks later...
Posted

Wow. An Arwen poem that didn't make me want to repeatedly bash my head into a brick. I'm impressed. Although a bit depressing, it's a very emotional piece, and quite well done in fact.

 

I'm glad to see good spelling and proper punctuation. It's awesome to see your writing is evolving. Congrats, and keep up the good work.

Posted

True insight in the lines of poetic verse,

you write well, fairest of elves.

 

It seems I need to seek out more of your work,

 

I look forward to reading anything new aswell.

 

 

:raven:

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