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A Nameless Existence

A nameless existence
Dwells in the castle of ruins.
When thunder strikes,
Mirror falls crashing down.

She begins her soliloquy,
Acting like an radical goddess,
Pretending to gather
Specks of hope
On the dust-covered floor.

Something inside her abode is breaking
She’s losing her grip on
What is left
Of her once a beautiful world.

A sweet taste of wine
And love is its name
Such a shame
She once had a sip
Look at her now!
Her eyes are lifeless
With dirty, wounded hands astir,
Searching for something she cannot find.

With her faltered voice,
She speaks to the world
But she can't even hear
Her own voice.

Her visage in ruins,
Like her castle in gray.
No sun ever shines,
And no moon ever appears
In this world where sorrow lies.
A crestfallen soul
Will forever wander
In the world behind the reality…

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


This poem really reminded me of the gothic tradition. You have all the elements of a gothic here: romantic (in the literary sense of the term) atmosphere, soliloquy, death, mirrors breaking, castle references etc. You handle these elements really well, however it is so hard to not be taken with cliche within this tradition. I feel you're teetering on the boarder of cliche in this poem (which is in no way your fault), so I think you need to revised a the images a little or change your register and vocabulary so this poem doesn't read like a Dark Shadows episode.

You play with pastiche really well here and there is so much potential. You have a really good idea, now just polish up that diamond:)!

PS. This poem reminded me of Walpole's The Castle of Ontranto. You should look into it; it seems right up your alley!

I just downloaded the ebook The Castle of Ontranto I am going to read it in the next couple of days thanks for pointing the way I am always looking for new things to read much appreciated

kindest regards JC x

"My head is broken but unbowed" - William Ernest Henley

"pretending her act
on dust speckled hope
Gather Floor!
Gather Wall!

inside her abode the wreckers
fall...the heavy ballet of treasons
her fingers slip
beautiful on a world
once was..."

"Wines sweet taste
and love's its name
A shame
a sip
Now lifeless eyes
and dirty hands astir!
search not..
she now cannot find"

no suggestions on this one..Just my own
working of your poem...

I really liked this poem its got some great lines in it. I agree with Michelle it does teeter into cliche in a couple of places I have a few ideas and would be happy to share them if your interested ...

I love this style of poetry and I really enjoyed reading this one my favourite lines are these

Pretending to gather
Specks of hope
On the dust-covered floor.

kindest regards Jayne-Chloe

"My head is broken but unbowed" - William Ernest Henley

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