Published June 13, 2011
The ice is purple, and purple is the sea. The ancestry of the lurking and frozen waters is that of grand monsters, known to swallow whole mountains and dote upon imperialism. For when the enlightening fired the glacier minds to infiltrate and petrify in time, the majestic ample orange and feverish yellow creatures adapted hastily to the singular party color, blue, as if seduced roughly into the color of navy lips below the arctic kiss of death. The devoured mountains, once colossal over-standings, shrank into the irrelevance of digestive systems, while the sought imperialism, once a silent protector of the vernacular, befriended a Commun and crippled beneath the general good. How to counteract, the monsters pondered. Swim and Swim and Swim, to fight for that dazzling pigment once more, that irreplaceable vivation of existence which curiously and sublimely held the fins of the beasts independent and intellectual. But to Tred was the acceptance, to settle for a transparent hue, the more appropriate method of catering to one's neighbor, held oppressing majority. It was then the liquid dragons slipped into the dryness of hot fear and vengeful dust, and were lessened to be renamed,
Human.
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141,255 Literary Works • 674,330 Reviews
I also agree. Beautifully written but I couldn't really understand what you were talking about. I would like to, though, because it is magnificent.
I Have to say that I really agree with what masquerade said. In addition to that, i think that either there wasn't enough of a solid meaning behind the piece, or it just flew way over my head in which case, i sincerely apologize, and If you wouldn't mind explaining it to me a bit, i think I may be able to appreciate it more... dig?
Hello, I'm Masque and I shall be reviewing your work today. Wow, this was insane. There is so much imagery and figurative language it is bursting. Usually the problem I see is people not including enough imagery, but this is almost opposite. The piece almost sounds ore like a poem than a short story, but it isn't written in stanzas. If I were you I might try splitting it up into stanzas and seeing how it functions as a poem. I also think it would be easier to read if it was split up more. It's not long, but this mass of imagery all packed into a single paragraph is daunting for a lot of readers. There was so much metaphor and figurative language woven together, that I'm not sure I even got the point of the whole piece. It sounds beautiful, but the maze of metaphors is rather confusing. I would go back and try to balance the piece more, using some more simple language. It might add impact to the piece as well.
Happy writing!
Masquerade