whynotsin Posted March 16, 2003 Report Posted March 16, 2003 (edited) Nothing to say It wouldn’t matter anyway, There is no one left to hear, The mighty halls of the keep are empty. The chatter died down, Consumed by the wind. Every one gone nothing left to say, The dreamers have left her walls. The crows no longer caw And magic no longer here The sword prevailed after all. Edited March 17, 2003 by whynotsin
Archaneus Posted March 16, 2003 Report Posted March 16, 2003 I can only think of one thing ot say, great! I really enjoyed this, thanks for sharing.
Peredhil Posted March 16, 2003 Report Posted March 16, 2003 Heh. It feels that way sometimes, doesn't it? I know when I've posted something I particularly want feedback on, inevitably Real Life sucks everyone's feedback thoughts away. One thing I like about this new board - at least with the view count you can tell if people are reading!
Justin Silverblade Posted March 16, 2003 Report Posted March 16, 2003 (edited) Nods in agreement with Peredhil. A good poem in its thoughts. Well conveyed. Thanks! - Justin Edited March 16, 2003 by Justin Silverblade
reverie Posted March 17, 2003 Report Posted March 17, 2003 (edited) time is all we have, yet never enough... not sure if someone else said that before... pretty much ppl get busy... ya know... life happens... you'll see... so why rush it? nice poem though, gloomy but nice... would throw a 'y' after ever in the 2nd stanza though... revery the dreamlost "i saw a world enchanted" (under your spell,buffy songs) the dream continues... Edited March 17, 2003 by reverie
Alaeha Posted March 17, 2003 Report Posted March 17, 2003 I've noticed the phenomenon Peredhil pointed out as well... I've only gotten one comment on the story I posted a few days ago, and that after I mentioned in a conversation that no one had commented... Ahh well. Not sure if you intended to leave the y out of everyone, but you might consider putting it in... A good poem. Life feels like that a lot... the dumb people seem to be winning because there are fifteen of them for every intelligent person.
Brute Posted March 17, 2003 Report Posted March 17, 2003 (edited) Alaeha's comment about dumb people greatly outnumbering the intelligent ones sparks a dim memory in Brute's booze-addled brain. "Needed something..flashlights?" he mumbles. With a shrug, his dwindling memory gives way to the ever-present obsession. "Mmm..tasty booze!" Edited March 17, 2003 by Brute
Rune Posted March 27, 2003 Report Posted March 27, 2003 I wonder if this poem does not speak of the physical disappearance of people within the pen..but more of the mental and sensitivity of certain things that are said within the pen. Or I wonder if it speaks directly of a Pen as in a writing instrument and the feeling that even when one does produce work and publish it that they feel unheard. That the halls within the keep are empty to their ears, that they do not hear themselves nor the voices of the ones they consider close echoing through the busy halls. The chatter could symbolize the playful banter between the poet and their friends, and although people do still chatter amongst themselves the poet does not pay notice as it does not directly include them. Even when in a crowd of people one can still feel very alone. And amid the voices of many, one might feel lost and unheard. The final line could signify the giving up stage of depression where the poet has committed suicide and given up on being heard through the use of their pen as an instrument to relay their thoughts. Obviously from the references to the dreamer and the crows and whatnot my interpretation is probably not correct, but it is an interesting way to look at it.
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