Monument Soul

~The Ocean of Obscurity ~ The ocean of obscurity is the vast ignorance that saturates the world. An endless body of churning blindness swollen with the torrents spewed up from ...

not a very unexpected twist in a tale may be even cliche'... but hey,sometimes Royal Red , looks good on the walls so kudos for that. man is more of ...

:lol: "...the friends that love you back will come stay in hell with you." what strange little gadget of a poem we have here. rotating mirrors set on gears and ...

*sigh* cute... you ask questions about little novelties you open a window and show us a landscape the door remains locked... the reader is marroned like a sick child in ...

hmm... the rhymes gnoe right out of me... this poem reminds of some of my own work... I don't know about this, it's based on words of some jerk... some ...

oi!another Blank-Verse!!! it's not even organized like a poem, but I've seen worse. The subject matter seems to jerk about at random. the concept and the content run down hill ...

due to the moderators sharp crack whip, I came over and decided to make a reveiwing trip. so what do we have here!? OOH a Blank-Verse PO-EM!!! I'm very fond ...

that DROP-Dead poetry. I make enough grammar mistakes ast is, so if I ever giver you adive on it ,ignore me. You've definately have defined style about you...now all you ...

from "The D.O.R.A.O.H" Prologue: from Loves Balcony The Universe is a Grand Theatre Existence a symphony, Life an opera The moment you enter, you are on stage. The spotlight is ...

... :)

The rapist wants to take your body to satisfy his diabolical ends. He only wants your body, but you let him take so much more. You give him your heart, ...

this a true story or are you just using the premise to a dramatic effect.

(*sigh* it's been a while since I last on this website) this rings true to any writer who has ever written an emotionally charged compsition. the rhyme is functioning properly, ...

This is beautiful, it has everything I'd like to have in my own writing. (check out my writing if you please) this paricular poem is rather similar to a pair ...

I sat in my massive parlor swathed in the glare of my burning hearth. I sat there freezing; I sat there dying. The flame burned upwards denying me its warmth. ...