Hell is a Place

Hell is a Place

Hell is an over-and-under place;
it is fueled with the souls of pilgrims
and the tongues of shepherds. The raven
crows at twilight for broken water,
broken ships, and a man with a sword,
prone and bleeding.

Hell overflows with pirates
and baristas and banana-growers.
We who sing to the stairs of Hell
throw ourselves time and time again
against the wall of lost men
and across the floor of broken women.

against the wall of lost men
and across the floor of broken women.

This seems unfinished, almost as if you were starting an idea here and never completed the point. The poem, as a whole, has beautiful imagery, but that's a usual with you. I enjoy poetry much more with a direct point, a feeling, an expression or theme. I know you can incorporate this, so why don't you try this with this poem. It's definitely worth expanding upon.

i personally really enjoyed this. it was short without being abrupt to me, but it was still short enough to be slightly mysterious, and i loved the image it created and the unusual word choice you used. i think you did very good and i applaud. i like this a lot.