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Death and the soliloquy

Death and the soliloquy, turn a blind eye.
Side the heavens till morn, ever riding...
The hills converse a warning;
Eternity’s change of robes, fray,
Friar’s tongue decays to feed the rising earth.
Water of the sea ascend, frothing, vaporising,
Hues to view prismatic reality.
Survival of the fit, write to dust
Which hardens to stone,
Hence weathered lessons and eroded teachings,
Meet the sea, ascend once more and again

Never alone; blood of all-father spills through cosmic waves.
What beyond all could comprehension entangle?
Smoke and mirrors, abstract reality, true reality...
To whom?
That great thing from which we and all we see are born?
Nothing should be,
Yet by these accustomed laws perceived,
Everything has its place to be.
But from what does all this appear?
How is that to begin with?
What did something begin from, when truly nothing should exist.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
hmmm... prob needs something....
Editing stage: 

Comments

I had to refresh my memory on the word soliloquy in order to completely enjoy your poem. I looked up the meaning in my dictionary and would like to share it with you and your other readers:

soliloquy

so·lil·o·quy [s? líll?kwee] (plural so·lil·o·quies) noun
1. talking when alone: the act of speaking while alone, especially when used as a theatrical device that allows a character’s thoughts and ideas to be conveyed to the audience
2. section in play: a section of a play or other drama in which a soliloquy is spoken

I want you to know that I enjoyed this poetic form!

always, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:
http://eddystyx.mythramuse.com/

Just wanted to say thank you for reading, and enjoying.
thanks Cat.

Jim

_____________
If I had it my way I'd be up on a mountain. Playing my guitar,
until my calluses grew calluses, my arse a chair and my smile into a halo

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