look at her, fallen angel
her wings grew weary of the flight
she dragged her people, her women on her wings
to the air from six feet under
she rests beneath our heavy steps
her feathers in every woman's hat
we stop to stare at her headstone today
her being carved to stone but living
the world knows her name
a warrior, words her weapon
her battles spilt ink over blood
and now our paths are clean and green
the women bloom from seedlings she planted
we rise high, high as the tide
the men on the rocks laugh at our delay
they hold sickles ready to hack at our shafts
but the angel protects us,
for she showed us the way
we will look up at her at the end of the day
**for better understanding, this poem was inspired by Virginia Woolf**
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Hey there, thought I´d leave a review! I love this. You´re style truly has something special, it is really descriptive, without ever being too much or too hard, still there is a lot of your more unique wording and style choices going on. It is also dark, it is raw (my favourite way to describe my favourite type of writing), it is honest, but you still manage to make one feel good, feel hopeful even, after reading. I am definitely hoping to read more of your work in the future!!!
thank you so much!! >-<
I read the wikipedia article of Virginia Woolf just recently. Thank you for sharing your poem about her! While poetry is not my usual style of fiction, I still really enjoyed myself! I really like this line "her feathers in every woman's hat" and how the angel motive keeps showing up in ways that don't feel generic! That one's also really good "her battles spilt ink over blood".
Hope you have a nice day!
thank you so much!!