The Inspiration Of A Single Word

The Inspiration Of A Single Word

Weaving thread through itself, forcing perfection can never work.
Difficulty is not a seperation method, but a driving force behind spite.
Music is....revenge.
To write a swansong that need not be your last is a venture to take.
Experience the hybrid of simple inspiration without feeling behind it.
Most of it is superfluous to its own echoes.

To experiment is a cliche, but to be of the experiment is the original cliche.
Perhaps the shape of another sound can form a sort of wild evensong.
God bless nihilism.
Pretend behind locked gates, on which is hung a welcome sign.
And if you can't sleep its more than self-inflicted insomnia.
Music gives colour, so enjoy being grey.

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Does anyone think i should add more to it?

Really? No one wants to post anything?

This is really good, it had good flow and imagry. I don't think it needs more but it would be better with more. The last line seems like an ending so maybe move it if you add more. But this is vety good, great job.

hmmmm....interesting. i think it is good, but a little confuzing, but thats probably just me.

Ok, here is the final product. Its exactly the same but with a new verse in the middle. Enjoy.



Weaving thread through itself, forcing perfection can never work.
Difficulty is not a seperation method, but a driving force behind spite.
Music is....revenge.
To write a swansong that need not be your last is a venture to take.
Experience the hybrid of simple inspiration without feeling behind it.
Most of it is superfluous to its own echoes.


Pre-made ideals of a song from the future, a lasting influence from before time.
The words of a martyr, overshadow the belief of the vocal majority.
We love propaganda.
Is it possible to follow something that remains unmoving?
Of course there is hope for fools, but they named it themselves.
To be immaculate is nothing great.


To experiment is a cliche, but to be of the experiment is the original cliche.
Perhaps the shape of another sound can form a sort of wild evensong.
God bless nihilism.
Pretend behind locked gates, on which is hung a welcome sign.
And if you can't sleep its more than self-inflicted insomnia.
Music gives colour, so enjoy being grey.

very nice...I especially liked ---

Music is....revenge.
To write a swansong that need not be your last is a venture to take.

By the way your title spawned a few poems that are under Mind Musings, you might want to check it out.

CL

Wheee, i like. Yes,

Music is....revenge.
To write a swansong that need not be your last is a venture to take.

Is especially nice. Smashin stuff.

You say the currant word of the week in here!

I like your poem, it seems philosophical.

This is my favorite line:

We love propaganda.
Is it possible to follow something that remains unmoving?

Its brisk, but not hurried. I don't know if that makes sense, sorry.