Vlad Posted May 22, 2003 Report Posted May 22, 2003 The brood of many, Still so young- Naive and innocent. Blood has not yet, Stained the torn, Hearts and hands. Leaking through- Fingers open like, A grave beckoning. The tormentor, Awakens and awaits. That which stems, From the only- Soulless brood.
Cyril Darkcloud Posted May 23, 2003 Report Posted May 23, 2003 Vlad, the second stanza of this piece is an outstanding bit of writing which combines a fine use of meter with a striking set of images. It is, in fact, such a strong piece of writing that the two stanzas which bracket it seem weak in comparison in terms of both rhythm and language. It might be worth revisiting the piece at some point to see if stanzas 1 and 3 might be sharpened a bit so as not to be overshadowed by that very fine middle group of verses. Keep writing!
Salinye Posted May 24, 2003 Report Posted May 24, 2003 I echo Cyril's sentiments! (Which is not hard to do since he always offers such insightful critique :0) I appreciate your brilliant use of imagery! ~Salinye
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