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Coldness

Hopeless flies
the arrow
hard
against the wind,

a cry in the distance
of the desolation
of a desperate heart,

a sudden stop
within the enigmatic
eye of the storm.

The revolution
passes by,
and silhouetted faces
smile,

furrowed brows
masked by shadows,
and cloaks of falsehood
like a masquerade.

The drum rolls,
and bells toll
with an uncertain harmony.

Alone,
I sit on an iceberg,
and watch the loveless sea,
as the continents
float away into my dreams.

Take the children in,
and drain the blood.

There'll be carnage
in a bit.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
A bit too abstract.
Editing stage: 

Comments

This poem is very personal, and I wrote it just when I was in the mood it portrays.

The line "the revolution passes by" is actually the core of the poem, and could pass as a title.

The last bit borders on the suicidal/self destructive.

Sitting on an iceberg, I thought, evoked coldness, loneliness and isolation.

Thanks for your comment.

No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job. - TS Eliot

http://www.wsgeorge.com/

author comment

but that is probably a product of my deranged mind

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Directors

You probably relate well to this poem.

No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job. - TS Eliot

http://www.wsgeorge.com/

author comment

And the rest but this is strong imagery. Well done

I was looking to write something like Plath, with abstract words and strong imagery. I'm glad you liked it.

No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job. - TS Eliot

http://www.wsgeorge.com/

author comment
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