Old Poem - Butterflies (Name Pending)

by Firearris

Published March 1, 2010

Okay, I wrote this a few months back. Name suggestions are welcome, enjoy

--

Goodbye, Goodbye,
The final words
before we depart,
into strange new worlds.

Goodbye, Goodbye,
the twilight masks our fate,
as we descend into a new place.

We fly like butterflies through the night,
and into the dawn,
to finish our flight.

Hello, Hello,
you seem familiar.
Tell me our name,
and I'll tell you a story;
of how two butterflies flew through the night,
and into the dawn,

to finish their flight.

Comments & reviews · 3
User avatar
Elinor
Review
Elinor wrote a review Review · Mar 4, 2010

Hi Firearris! This was certainly much better then The Cricket, which I think was the last poem I'd reviewed of yours up until now.

What do I like about it? You've got a nice, subtle style and constant rhythm throughout your stanzas. I like the repetition of "Goodbye, Goodbye" at the beginning of the stanzas, and how it later switches to, "Hello, Hello".

I just have one tiny nitpick. In the first stanza, I'd either put a semi-colon after the second "Goodbye" or change the second line to, "These are he final words" so it makes a bit more since.

But otherwise, nice job!

-Elinor

User avatar
tori1234
Review
tori1234 wrote a review Review · Mar 2, 2010

I love it. :)

There are only two nit picks I have.

1. Each new line needs to be capitalized. That's just a basic poem-grammar thing.

2. Try to be a little bit more consistent with your repetitive line. Like "Goodbye, Goodbye" and "Hello, hello." They seem to be randomly scattered to me.

Keep up the good work! God Bless!

User avatar
Quetseli
Review
Quetseli wrote a review Review · Mar 2, 2010

It's a lovely poem! Really sweet. I like the ending where it turns to a happy but suspicious note. If the title is pending I can give you a title, only because I love making up titles when I'm not that good at them X3. Morning Wings, maybe? It's a susgestion. X3 Good job, keep it up!



He began to wonder why he had felt uneasy at all. It was like a man wondering in broad daylight why a dream had appeared so terrible to him at night.
— Chinua Achebe, Things Fall Apart