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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Silence,

 

A killing sound

 

Empty, yet full of thought

 

Of beauty lost and sorrow found.

 

Roses, red roses

 

Mahogany box gleaming

 

Rolled out lifted up and carried

 

Determined looks on grown faces

 

A steady march, a heavy load.

 

Duty bound,

 

Gently they lower it down

 

to the ground and stand clear.

 

Now they come.

 

Roses and tears

 

Drying in the sun.

 

I watch it disappear

 

A handful at a time.

 

A final tribute

 

Good bye dear friend and God's speed.

Posted

I'm very sorry to hear about your friend's passing, Regel. :( I know that it must be a very hard blow for you to take, especially in light of the other passings in your life, and I hope that you realize that there are people at the Pen who care about your health and well-being and appreciate you posting and sharing your feelings here. Life can really be a test of endurance at times, but I'm confident that you'll pass through all the tragedies it has to offer and emerge with even more acceptance and understanding. I hope that the Pen can provide you with at least a glimmer of sunlight until then... your creative posts are always appreciated, and you should always feel free to vent in the Courtyard.

 

On the poem itself: "A killing sound" was a very powerful line to me, and really resonated throughout the rest of the piece. The fragmented images of mourning all felt appropriate as well. Well done.

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