Sorciere Posted May 21, 2003 Report Posted May 21, 2003 I caught your eyes as they scanned the room They glistened with the dancing fires Movement within movement, I was entranced Their intense heat, draining my will I moved towards you, as you to me Your face so strong and pure it seemed Your lips drew my gaze as they smiled at me My body quivered with your stare A thousand people danced around us But I saw nothing beyond you You drank my lifeforce with those eyes so deep I was powerless to resist We moved in close, I felt you breathing Hard and fast, an excited child Although not normal I did not notice The beads of sweat sat on your face Your eyes still held me in my hunger As your breath danced warm on my skin And I still gazed upon you with wonder As you drove the knife into me My smile did not wane as you twisted As you held my back to your blade It did not fade until you withdrew it And slowly sat me down to die
Parmenion Posted May 21, 2003 Report Posted May 21, 2003 I like the way you personified death in an Adonis-like grim-reaper fashion. Very clever!
Nobody of Consequence Posted May 21, 2003 Report Posted May 21, 2003 I find this quite interesting, the way you've given the whole encounter an almost lustful feeling. A lust for Death? Death has a lust for Life?
Sorciere Posted May 22, 2003 Author Report Posted May 22, 2003 It's hard to explain what I was aiming for when I wrote this, things always just seem to flow out and I analyze it later. I guess I wanted to portray death as something other than you would expect, but in the end, you get the same result, everyone's journey to death is different, this was just one aspect. Does that make sense? *Sorciere wanders off more confused than when she started*
Nobody of Consequence Posted May 22, 2003 Report Posted May 22, 2003 Makes sense to me One of my fave writing-related thoughts comes courtesy of American writer Harlan Ellison, who spoke about how he has two selves: his normal, everyday, self, then the writer self, who is a really smart S.O.B. who occassionally shoulders him out of the way, does something brilliant and then wanders off to leave his normal self standing around saying 'Cool' and blinking in a mixture of awe and amusement. I might have paraphrased that, btw.
Matteo Posted May 22, 2003 Report Posted May 22, 2003 Bravo; an extacy of tremulous souls... I like it. Death is so vivid, but not repetetive or cliche. It seams slmost as new to him/her as to its victim, a wonder to quake your heart, but only once to behold.
Psimon Posted May 22, 2003 Report Posted May 22, 2003 A wonderful piece Death. The final rush. You've painted a beautiful, bittersweet picture and it tells a thousand words (and then some!) Enjoyed it thoroughly. Thank you
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