Gray Between

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Consumed in a fit of mortal gasps,
I slit apart beneath cold mercury's blade.
These love-worn ligaments catch and snap
like men caught in a hail of bullets.

Delilah's breath, a cloud of vixen smog,
quells the seizing fits; I cease.
This coldest gray of the between suspends
my being like a hangman in the dawn.

This nervous soul shivers in the tomb;
the stagnant joy of the beyond dissipates.
The vast crypt illuminates and reveals her being.
Each wall and stone comprises of prophecy.

Scripture, granitic and as powerful as the Earth,
assembles among the orifice of the grave;
arises from the luminescent floor a transient angel.
He reaches beyond the real and commands truth.

"As you exist," quoth the angel, "you will fade."
"Your life," truth insists, "continues idly in memory."
My essence, the core of my reality, compacts,
dizzying this reality; swiftly, existence ends.
Last edited by Lumi on Mon Oct 11, 2010 12:34 pm, edited 2 times in total.
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.




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Gender Male
Points 13952
Reviews 168
Interesting, Lumi, it very deep but some parts I love, others came across as you put pretentious. It's beautifully crafted and it's obviously been constructed under influence of something. It's very intriqueing but as I think you want more, I shall be begin.

I shall do this by stanzas.

Consumed in a fit of mortal gasps,
I slit apart beneath cold mercury's blade.
These love-worn ligaments catch and snap
like men caught in a hail of bullets.


I love the beginning, it pulls you in right away, but then it kinda meanders along, after the end of first line. I don't know next line doesn't quite seem as pulling as the other, it doesn't quite compute right away. Personal preference is you use a historical reference for the hail of bullets line, suggest Al Capone and St Valentine's Day massacre.

Delilah's breath, a cloud of vixen smog,
qualms the seizing fits; I cease.
This coldest gray of the between suspends
my being like a hangman in the dawn.


Again another terrific beginning but unlike the other stanza it doesn't peter out, it carries on strong, it's actually my opinion that this is by far the most powerful stanza, with gorgeous imagery and darkness, devouring darkness it really makes the Lovecraftian part of my mind squee in delight.

It was round about here I think you lost me, this came in rather randomly.

This nervous soul shivers in the tomb;
the stagnant joy of the beyond dissipates.
The vast crypt illuminates and reveals her being.
Each wall and stone comprises of prophecy.


This personifies what you were referring to, some may feel this is good, but I almost preferred it was more enigmatic, less up front, it's my opinion this is where you lost the beauty and crept into weak waters.

Scripture, granitic and as powerful as the Earth,
assembles among the orifice of the grave;
arises from the luminescent floor a transient angel.
He reaches beyond the real and commands truth.


This is the pretentious stanza, the bit that seems highly contrived, it doesn't seem natural or even fitting it seems hell of out of place. See, after reading the second stanza I expect some sorta of connection, but it doesn't quite merge, it seems like another poem almost, my suggestion is try meld this on to the second stanza bit better.

Finally the stanza you feel is questionable.

"As you exist," quoth the angel, "you will fade."
"Your life," truth insists, "continues idly in memory."
My essence, the core of my reality, compacts,
dizzying this reality; swiftly, existence ends.


My suggestion for this is make it more mysterious sounding, work on really pulling at the readers mind. Try obfuscate them in the end.

Hope this helps.
You poor take courage
You rich take care
This earth was made a common treasury
For everyone to share
All things in common
All people one
We come in peace
The orders came to cut them down

Billy Bragg - The World Turned Upside Down



True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are, it requires you to be who you are.
— Brené Brown