*Which path to take entry*

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She stepped off the boat and beheld a delight of wonders,
blundering in the candle light,
fantastic worlds any she could choose to plunder.
Smooth crystals grew on the cavern ground and nothing but faint echoes,
scratched each separate portals passing sound.
Each portal a portrait of perfection,
each a mirrored reflection of a dream,
doors that she may or may not have seen before,
or so it seemed at the time.

And she wondered where to turn next to pursue her curious quest to find the next adventure she could find,
whether it be winter snow,
the deserts sand,
the ocean flow or lush green lands,
she didn't mind.
And as her mind began to wander,
each portal lay there yonder,
all earthly seasons star sun and moon light intertwined.
Each world a different scene of memories,
lost to thee and never remembered, all lay there in the fading candles ember,
each a scene to discover mysterious and strange,
each a different colour as the worldly seasons changed.
Each a different time and space,
from ancient shrines to modern place and each world's life ran it's own immortal race down the stream of imagination or so it seemed creation at the time.

The warmth of a sweet summer breeze,
the biting gust of a winter wind,
the rustle of autumn leaves
and the birds awakening song in spring.
The rapid river breaking on the fallen rocks of a soaring waterfall below,
while birds flutter away from the ferocious lion's call.
Each sense en flared except one,
and how cruel can creation be when a single imperfection can leave you with no passion none at all, when our little girl cant see and never will it seemed at all, the whole time she had been blind but yet alive inside.




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Gender Female
Points 1734
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Hello,

I think that it is a very good poem, but prehapse the lines are a little uneven, maybe altering the stanzas a little to help this problem.

It is a little confusing how there is some rhyming bits, yet some not.

She stepped off the boat and beheld a delight of wonders,
blundering in the candle light,
fantastic worlds any she could choose to plunder.
Smooth crystals grew on the cavern ground and nothing but faint echoes,
scratched each separate portals passing sound.
Each portal a portrait of perfection,
each a mirrored reflection of a dream,
doors that she may or may not have seen before,
or so it seemed at the time.


you see the first and 3rd line rhyme but thats really it.

but the content is good :wink:



Almost all absurdity of conduct rises from the imitation of those whom we cannot resemble.
— Samuel Johnson