Untitled Lament

His words, which wrench my poet’s soul
Are of a man long dead,
And through his lines I see the words
That he has left unsaid.

A life of pleasure he pursued,
And plied his craft to same,
And still his soul came empty back,
Though body took free reign.

And though his voice has faded to
The printed ink of death,
Still I feel his soul cry to me
And wish we two had met.

Comments & reviews · 7
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VampX13
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That was very sweet and really did describe Oscar Wilde. And, even though it was primarily ryhming, the poem had a rythm. I love rythmic poetry.

I don't think there's anything for you to improve here so ... bravo and keep it up.

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Max McKali
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ooh, that made me teary-eyed! i love oscar wilde, the poem was a great dedication!

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Sage
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*happy squirm*
Oscar Wilde, I think...?

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Crysi
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Wow. Usually I'm not a fan of rhyming poems, because they often seem too whimsical for the subject. However... you managed to pull off a somber tone, and the rhyming only enhances the subject. I think every writer can identify with this. Bravo!

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Snoink
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Oh gosh... this IS lovely and everything.

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gyrfalcon
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thank's timjim! *blushes with happiness*

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timjim77
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Lovely lovely. Use punctuation and in this line:

"Still I feel his soul cry out to me"

remove the word out. Supreme job.



For in everything it is no easy task to find the middle ... anyone can get angry—that is easy—or give or spend money; but to do this to the right person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the right motive, and in the right way, that is not for everyone, nor is it easy; wherefore goodness is both rare and laudable and noble.
— Aristotle