And as he was walking,
he came upon stone
not rare,
not new,
but a simple pile of stone.
And in this stone laid
naught but rubble
with life ,
with death,
but still simply rubble.
He turned in despair
not knowing where he was
not here,
not there,
not a clue of where he was.
Yet, as he turned back,
he saw no stone
but trees,
grand trees,
not a single pebble of stone
It seemed the trees
were in a grove
of light,
of love,
all in the grove.
On the left the trees were
brighter full of happiness,
joy,
youth,
every type of happiness.
From Palm, to bannana
with radience grand
bamboo
the baobob
and trees alfilled with grand.
On the Right was much
a darker side with shadow
despairity
death
and even life within the shadow
From Elm, to Ash
with stature tall
and Oak
and Aspen
all the stature tall.
But from the two
wound down to the ground
the roots
the earth
unto the ground.
And upon the roots
deep in the heart
was a flower
a small flower
found in the heart
This flower was unknown
by shape and size and color,
for it was small
and large
with a brand new type of color.
As it sat in gradient harmony
the rose up his eyes
to find magnificince
and prosperity
to be seen right in his eyes.
For there before him was
a build of stone
with detail
emotion
set in the stone.
From each sloping corner there
was a pillar
with markings
of leaves
set in the pillar.
Up top the pillars
were a circle
both perfect,
and marvolous,
but set through the cirlce,
From the top, a tablet of
stone
remarkable,
ingenious,
beautiful stone
On the stone
was a passage, read,
'The hopes and Tears
The Loss and Fears
Lies here in the
Land
The Man of the Wood'
The boy was amazed
with hope and grace
both terrible,
yet, astounding
grace.
Alas, through deep configuration
he knew not what it meant
for time again,
and youth untainted
He simply
Knew not
What
It
Meant.
I agree, you will have to forgive me. The day I wrote this, my fictional writing on the piece was becoming wasteful and i decided to try it in a poetic sense. It developed easier due to my understanding of how narrative poetry is the same emotion, just without the chapters. I will come back and rewrite this tommorow anyway, due to the fact that as I read back over a few times I realized the overuse of the Refrain was overbearing the rest of the story to myself.
Maybe just me but I thought the length was right.
Reading through, it didn't seem to drag along and
each part was adding something to the poem.
I really enjoyed it. It really gave me a sense of the
surroundings and the loneliness being experianced.
It doesn't really seem like a narrartive poem however
but I guess that's why it works for me
[quote="errtu2"]Interesting, i cant bring my thoughts on the subject matter to bare except to say that you have chosen a timeless topic and did a commendable job on it. Now i dont mean to be an ass but is all of the descriptions of the forest necessary, if feel like you could the same thing with a few less stanzas. Take it as it is and its a bit arduous, but stream line that baby and you got yourself a sports car.
Chin up.[/quote]
I agree no mena to be rude we're just trying to help maybe make it a little bit shorter so you don't make the reader say "I want the last twenty-minutes of my life BACK!!!" you get my point make it shorter making it more interesting, otherwise were going to come to the conclusion of why should we care? What are the emotions in this? And where in the hell did you get your point? Sorry just trying to help hope you don't find this harsh. Good luck, keep writing have fun.
-Max
Interesting, i cant bring my thoughts on the subject matter to bare except to say that you have chosen a timeless topic and did a commendable job on it. Now i dont mean to be an ass but is all of the descriptions of the forest necessary, if feel like you could the same thing with a few less stanzas. Take it as it is and its a bit arduous, but stream line that baby and you got yourself a sports car.
Chin up.
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