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Young Writers Society


E - Everyone

And When You Opened Your Eyes Part.1

by Mentaku


It was a cold day for me. I had just experienced a great loss and then while reflecting on myself I found I wanted something. Something that couldn't be defined but was real. And essential! And then I saw her. She was so beautiful! Too beautiful! It was her eyes that made me realize what it was that I wanted but could never have. It was lost by me a long time back. So I decided to wait for it. Summers rolled by and winters curled in, the seasons tumbled one after other without a change like a wheel moving forever, a monotonous event that brought spontaneous changes in the surrounding - changes, unlike the season itself that were so diverse. 

I wanted my innocence back. I realized. I wanted to hold the same look in my own soul as I saw in her eyes. She became eternal for me...an ideal that was to be realized. I still await my innocence, though I don't know how I'll get it back, but I will wait for it all my life. Should it one day be cast on me like a spell, I await its arrival because I know nothing else to do to bring it upon me. Like a stone, I will remain unmoved on this path that one day I realize the secret of that innocence I beheld in that infant's eyes. 

I envisioned her life as I waited. Like a song that played as winds rustled by sweeping through the lands whispering into the ears of many the untold tales of far off lands. The words were still too prompt and not right but the heart said it was enough...for now, that is. Music swelled from my throat. But the song wasn't heard. Because it wasn't meant to be sang.It was a simple wish to be read out aloud, a story to be unraveled.  

I felt when she would have been an infant she would have still known things that was lost to this world. Things that were for those who were pure. How would she feel when she realize that she had been thrown in a place of chaos? And the things that were real for her before she was molded in a body from its spirit form were no longer hers? How would she feel when slowly she will get tangled in webs which she is unable to see and get tainted? I tried to envision it in my mind. 

"And when you opened your eyes

Fresh, frozen and faultlessly pure,

That thing you cherished 

You found naught!

With your guileless spirit and newborn arms

Reaching out to grasp the untouchable

Finding nothing,

You Writhed in agony and wept in alarm.

In the space of your twinkling eyes,

Soaring unfathomable your spirit peers

Past all.

Sweeping a guiltless dream

Where your sight passes the curving peaks,

Settling a longing glance on the calm seas,

A touching gaze on the blooming trees

With a tender breath on fresh green leaves.

All those time when love crooned

A lovely, luring lullaby with caress,

Your fright echoed, as you found

Nothing.

Though warm breeze now blew over your face

And serene look replaced the pained lines.

Your toddler arms outstretched a little more,

And all could see the fluffy wisp of your hair

Black,

That outshone even the raven's feather.

Yet your searching eyes and now your ears 

Couldn't find the world you sought.

Or hear the melody your memory sang

Some lullabies of a forgotten time.

Deep fear coiled inside your mind,

Then, at that moment you prayed your first prayer.

'God, save my soul and save my sight." 

                                                                                                                     -To be continued


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235 Reviews


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Tue Jan 23, 2018 1:15 am
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inktopus wrote a review...



Hey, Mentaku! Inky here for a review, so let's get into it!

It was a cold day for me. I had just experienced a great loss and then while reflecting on myself I found I wanted something.

I'm about to give the age-old advice that every writer has heard at some point in their career. Show, don't tell. Use description to show us that it was cold. Show us the loss and the feelings surrounding it.

The entire prose part of this was very tell-y which wasn't very interesting to read.

And the things that were real for her before she was molded in a body from its spirit form were no longer hers?

This sentence doesn't make any sense. I don't know how to fix it because I can't begin to guess at its meaning.

You Writhed in agony and wept in alarm.

Capitalization error.

Soaring unfathomable your spirit peers

This doesn't make any sense either. I think, this time, it's your use of the word unfathomable. It should be an adverb, at least I think, but even then it doesn't really work in the context. You should probably consider what you mean and reword it for clarity.

Though warm breeze now blew over your face

Now is present tense and blew is past tense, so this line doesn't work.

Yet your searching eyes and now your ears

Being frank, this poem is about a dead child. But why would the child's eyes stop working before the ears? It's just a strange thing to say, especially because you don't talk about what took the child away, only that they're gone.

I kind of got two ideas about this prose/poem work. The first was that it was about a miscarriage or a child who had passed away very young. However, in the last half of the prose part, you mention twice sight, so it begs the question of whether this is about someone who went blind. It's just unclear what exactly is the case here.

Overall, I feel like this was competent, but not spectacular. You need to work on clarity of phrase in both your poetry and prose, and you need to work on description in your prose. The telling aspect did not work to your advantage. I think that taking a different approach on the prose part would not only help the interest factor, but it could also help improve the clarity of the situation if you told it like a story.

If you have any questions or comments, tell me in a reply below.

~Inky




Mentaku says...


Thanks for the review, i appreciate the effort very much. I hope I can fix it all because its my first so i really didn't expect much. The whole thing i wrote was too long so i am breaking it into parts (to be continued). the work was the poetry(if it qualifies the term) and the prose were my feelings as i pondered so no imagery...
the second point about the spirit molding: i believe that we had a previous existence but the experiences are lost now...things that were part of us as spirits are no longer with us...as a child is born maybe she still held some of those memories so she wept that loss. i wanted to express it but guess its kind of hazy.

soaring, unfathomable....the idea is kind of about the brightness that a child has in her eyes as newborn as if a whole new world is whirling inside them...sorry if i couldnt express it.(i will really try to fix it all)

there's a time skip after "nothing". the ears were there for lullabies...

as i said it was actually a long poem so i had to break it into pieces with inclusion of my feelings as i wrote them, so the idea will become clear with the pacing time..

But i know my incompetence and won't pretend that i did a great job or anything. i like to concentrate on feelings so this poem was written after i got blown off by the gaze of a beauty(Azzu, my neighbors daughter who is six months old).

Thanks again for the review. :)



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125 Reviews


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Thu Jan 18, 2018 2:31 am
LakeOfCancer wrote a review...



This was so deep, now at first I thought you were talking about a girl that you wanted to be with so badly, but then I realized you had been talking about an infant. Whether it be your daughter, or a sister, it was amazing nonetheless! I honestly don't have any suggestions, the imagery was detailed tremendously, so I got a good view of what you were talking about. Great job! Keep up the fantastical work! I look forward to your future poems and the like!




Mentaku says...


Thankyou so much for the review. The work though is incomplete yet..I will post the rest soon. Again thankyou so much..:D



Mentaku says...


Thankyou so much for the review. The work though is incomplete yet..I will post the rest soon. Again thankyou so much..:D




We understand how dangerous a mask can be. We all become what we pretend to be.
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind