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Deep Breaths

I found myself weighted by the heavy--
swaddled safely at the bosom of doom.
A fighting mood with a devil’s bevy,
huddled warm in a dark an' hidden room:
I shed the man-made Lord an’ his levy.
In a frosted spring, my whisper’s on bloom:
I will remember what happened to you--
your uneven growth, your beauteous hue.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
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?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
(5:54am, October 9, 2018) // This is an Ottava Rima! I was thinking about a number of things when I wrote this so I feel it isn't cohesive, it feels muddled. Maybe that's just me after rereading it a dozen times. Let me know what you think. I'm thinking of making it longer, or just writing a new one that is longer, not sure yet. Hope y'all are well! Oh, the title is crap because I couldn't think of one, very open to title suggestions!
Editing stage: 

Comments

on so many levels. It brings the feeling of heavy, expected disappointment, yet, also one that brings a certain sense of comfort. Not sure if that is what you were going for, but that's what I get from it. I think that you have a typo here with the word [safely] I'm sure you mean safety. other than that, pretty good stuff! ~ Geezer.
. P.S. I think the title is just fine! I expect that 'one' would need to take deep breaths in this situation!

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