My sweet, fair child, what has become of you?
You have collapsed into my hands once again,
but, my child, who are you?
You bleak, pale creature of the darkness…
who are you?
I had lost you, my desolate being;
you left without a word, ambling through the forest.
I had no word, no news of what befell you.
Yet here you are, cowering at my old, worn feet.
My timid foundling; indeed, you are found.
For years, you tell me, you roamed.
You wished for life, for freedom, independence.
I wash your rotting skin as you tell your tale.
You free spirit, you butterfly in the wind.
With the stars in your eyes, with the sunset in your cheeks,
you strayed from that which you loved.
To find a better world, where not all was safe in my grasp.
But opportunity was your temptress.
You love-sick bird, you flew away,
to chase the worms of the trodden earth;
that saccharine wine you had yet to touch your lips.
But you had also yet to feel the storm’s torrent.
You dipped your toes in other people’s oceans,
territories where you were unwanted.
My imprudent child,
what has become of your bright-eyed soul?
Those ruddy cheeks are grim, that fair skin has rusted.
I shall love you, dear infant, ‘til the end of time.
But you are gone to me.
_________________
It's very open to criticism, as I only just wrote it, and I have to leave before I can read over it again. But I couldn't wait until tomorrow to post it. Thank you beforehand to those who review it.
The cool thing about this poem is that you made the "child" sound both bad and good. You have it sounding like a mourning mother thinking of better days with their beloved child. So, I praise your style here. The poem also reads perfectly and I had no trouble finding the rhythm, another thumbs up.
I like this a lot. The lyrical language is a very nice addition to the story, and the way you can't tell if its taking place now or in the past is very nice as well. You might want to tell more of why the daughter left her mother, to add to the story. The last verse, in my opinion is the best.
I love this poem, its wonderfully eerie.
I have to say at first, i thought it was about a woman suffering a miscarriage, i have no idea whether this is what you were trying to convey, but thats what i thought. So if this was not your intention, you may want to change it.
My sweet, fair child, what has become of you?
You have collapsed into my hands once again, [period instead]
but, my child, who are you?
You bleak, pale creature of the darkness…
who are you?
I had lost you, my desolate being;
you had left without a word, ambling through the forest.
I had no word, no news of what befell you.
Yet here you are, cowering at my old, worn feet.
My timid foundling; indeed, you are found.
For years, you tell me, you roamed.
You wished for life, for freedom, independence.
I wash your rotting skin as you tell your tale.
You free spirit, you butterfly in the wind.
With the stars in your eyes, with the sunset in your cheeks,
you strayed from that which you loved.
To find a better world, where not all was safe in my grasp.
But opportunity was your temptress.
You [s]love-sick[/s] lovesick bird, you flew away, [no comma]
to chase the worms of the trodden earth;
that saccharine wine you had yet to touch your lips.
But you had also yet to feel the storm’s torrent.
You dipped your toes in other people’s oceans,
territories where you were unwanted.
My imprudent child,
what has become of your bright-eyed soul?
Those ruddy cheeks are grim, that fair skin has rusted.
I shall love you, dear infant, ‘til the end of time.
But you are gone to me.
That was a good poem. ^-^ I think it was fairly well written be there could be some adjustments. Meep, other than that I don't think you should change anything but that's just me. Meep. ^-^
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