Published August 9, 2010
(Dedicated to the yes song, which inspired me on some parts)
When do we reach the end?
When is a thought complete?
And how many have we left?
Distractions took their heat.
-
How does a habit break?
How do we learn to stop?
And when do we really change?
Or do we just never drop.
-
When do we find the truth,
When we find it all the time?
And how do we know what we're looking for?
And learn how to draw the line?
-
Perfect ripples inside out,
All crashing in your mind.
Drops of water falling up,
Leaving you behind.
-
Fires put out themselves,
Can't stand to cause the mess,
And hurricanes unwinding,
Out of their eternal jest.
-
You find that you're a fool,
Responsible for your demise,
And all those thoughts stay broken,
And the habit never dies.
Or you do.
-
Fishes swimming far apart,
Can't stand to be together,
Birds walking north for winter,
They prefer the weather.
-
And in your world,
Nothing seems bizarre
For you would be the same.
And you realize you are.
-
And then you realize a truth
Which cuts you very deep
Life is all just a fragile dream
When do you want to sleep?
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Hey, hey! Shadow here!
I loved this, it's very good. I've read some of your other work, so I know you're a good writer. It flowed really good, which is great. Great job!
Need a review? Shoot me a PM, and I'll take a look!
~xX~Forsakinshadow~Xx~
this is really good, it really made me think and consider what you said
Ello, this is MasterMind, and I'd like to review your poem. I really liked the lyrical effect of the poem (well really what else did I except to find...) and it seemed to complete the statements that everything is never ending. Probably the only thing that was unsatisfactory was in the sixth section where you added the fifth line. I see there are only four lines in every other stanza, and maybe this one would've passed, because yes it added to the meaning, but it didn't seem to match the rhythm and took away from the full effect of the poem. Other than that, this is a very great piece. (Oh, I love that song...)
W