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THE SUNSET

There is a music called Jazz, a poem called Prose, a writer called Drey, and a language called Love. I come to speak it. There is a person, an electric, powering everyone else. and when they are out, the light goes off. Blackout! Their laughter, the whine of a machine that lost gear, their voices staggering out from a distance like an old drunk, from a vacuum, the type ripping from your heart. A void devoid of peace. You fall, try to stand, you fall again. You feign laughter when the beads of tears are ripe like a mango ready to drop.

This is the demand of the crowd as they cheer, but all you hear are jeers of your demons sneering from your deepest part. Mastero! You are a hero, the general that win all their wars, but still cannot win your fights.

There is a person dictating your smiles, your happiness, your sadness, your appetite and your longings, your wife, husband, lover, child, brother, sister, boss, friend... and though you may not mean much to them, still we call it Love, a game with no expectations.

There is a picture hanging on the wall of your heart facing rust and the wax of time. Once a beautiful color on a canvas, a sheet spreading to every corners of your life. A footstep advancing, not returning home, but rupturing into The City of Lust and Vanity. There is a fog hanging in the distant horizon, a dying star collapsing behind the golden hills called 'Sunset'.

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?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
This is a prose poem. I usually don't give hints to get the required feed back I want and to see if a poem gets to the reader as desired,,,
Editing stage: 

Comments

Your title, taken in context to the content, is good, at best, but... Your language is very good, as you don't usually get out of your depth and use words that you don't know the meaning of. I would hazard a guess that the person dictating your life is your ID or ego, consciousness. Maybe an alter-ego. I liked the theme, [as it is always interesting to see what others think about] the pattern is alright, but I wish that it read more like a poem in format. [I don't understand the predilection for the paragraph style]. It seems rather consistent and smooth from beginning to end. ~ Geezer.
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