Dead Language

word I got was SINGULAR and I thought of LATIN(the language) haha I don't know why.

The ghosts of our past haunts and influences our dividing paths.
Like a language dead amongst those considered alive,
But thriving once upon a time.

Reminiscing voices drone in our ears,
Arousing sorrows we attempted to bury again and again.

Latin, a dialect never dead in depth and passion still lives on in our day to days.
Like a memory of a distant and dejected past.
A life we once lived,
Speaking in words we never use today.

We used to talk to each other in those phrases only of our own comprehension.
Now our relationship is lost in translation.
It follows us as we try to flee.
Injecting into our minds the memory,
Of our dead language.

This was very nicely done!

The flow of the piece was great. What I first noticed was the imagery. The imagery you used in this was very haunting. I really liked it. I loved the idea, the title, the poem. Everything! It was a phenomenal piece.

Keep it up!

~H.

This was interesting, and quite well written. I think you should arrange the stanzas into some sort of form, as it looks a little messy and the stanzas seem random right now, but other then that, it is a neat little piece.

You told me about things and decided to include something about a dead language and the qualities of latin, but rather than create sensory worlds and overlapping detail on emotion and image, it's just bland.

Toto25 wrote:The ghosts of our past haunts and influences our dividing paths.
Like a language dead amongst those considered alive,
But thriving once upon a time.

The first line is the only interesting one, but it's a mess itself. Ghosts are obviously from the past, yes they haunt, and the second part is trying hard to be interesting, but it's confusing. Do you mean the growth of languages? New ones appearing? What exactly?

The other two lines are redundant, they're obvious. A dead language....would have been considered alive and the third is gut wrenchingly meh.

Reminiscing voices drone in our ears,
Arousing sorrows we attempted to bury again and again.

Uh. Yeah try again. This might make sense to you, but it's missing something ironically enough, in translation.

Latin, a dialect never dead in depth and passion still lives on in our day to days.

Too much in one line, really this is a sentence since it's lacks any poetic flourish, so cut this in half and figure out what they're doing.

Like a memory of a distant and dejected past.
A life we once lived,
Speaking in words we never use today.

You're repeating yourself and being redundant. This is all to obvious to the reader.

We used to talk to each other in those phrases only of our own comprehension.
Now our relationship is lost in translation.
It follows us as we try to flee.
Injecting into our minds the memory,
Of our dead language.

So I see what you're doing in terms of latin. Ok. That's not an excuse though. This is all syntax and grammar, there's really nothing here to makes this a "poem". You need to figure out what makes a dead language interesting in the aspect its "dead"; then relate it to us the readers in a way that's compelling.

We already know no one speaks it, ok. Give us your unique take on that, your perspective that intrigues us.