whynotsin Posted March 8, 2003 Report Posted March 8, 2003 Moribund There He stood, On edge of glass, Staring out at the beginning And the ending Time had worn him down, The beats slow and steady, His summer winds slowing To lazy autumn breezes The arch of his life waning The notes of his requiem echoing in his mind. Will he spilled them onto page. The pacing calm and cool. Not rushed and hurried as in his youth. His hands after years of flight Gracefully danced across the keys He struck His requiem mass in tune Seeing if it might resonate with any atoned Mussels grow tense Eyes focused His fingers stretch out and he plays, The last piece of his days. He stood on the edge of glass, Looking back, Hearing the melody of the years Fade.
Gwaihir Posted March 8, 2003 Report Posted March 8, 2003 Suggesting the music of the spheres the glass gives a feeling, suggestion of delicacy of fine-tuned beauty. cool poem!
Archaneus Posted March 8, 2003 Report Posted March 8, 2003 Being at a complete lack of commentary abilities at teh moment I say, great poem!
Nyyark Posted March 9, 2003 Report Posted March 9, 2003 Indeed excellent! Your imagry and symbolism sing in Harmony. I like how you let one type of art, such as music, spill over into another. It flowed well
Zariah Posted March 9, 2003 Report Posted March 9, 2003 Impressive imagery, vivid verbs, grat sense of timelessness!!! Three cheers for Whynotsin! Hip hip Hurray! Hip hip Hurray! Hip hip Hurray!
Recommended Posts