Weaper

by nekros

Published August 28, 2012

In

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Though I may have killed off a drop of sugar on my face,
I don't quite have it to end the rain.
Because I am refelction and he is teacher.
I am listener and we've both been the weapers.
 
I will not make room for a sky that's left so many to die,
Nor words of leaves that were dead before they dried.
I'm sick of proverbs on pictures no one sees.
Kill that blind man before he leaves!
 
You're all the same! You're all the same!
No loving anguish, but still all in pain.
So, you're sailing a ship on empty seas?
Choke that liar before he breathes!
 
Being such religiously golden dead men,
Why don't you burn what drips from your pen then?
And you're on your knees with a rose cut face.
How many scars until you take your place?
 
The weight of the world!The weight of the world!
You always baked bread better than pearls.
And I'm cut loose as you tie a scarlet noose
Held tightly, yet broken loose.
Comments & reviews · 2
User avatar
Nornadean
Review
Nornadean wrote a review Review · Aug 28, 2012

It was nicely put in great words. I liked how you made it flow with imagery and beautiful terminology. It almost made me sad. It was formed with great rhythm. The name seemed like the poem is veiled in darkness and it was catching as well. It was an overall perfect piece. I love how you worded it the most.

User avatar
scarletcurlicue
Comment
scarletcurlicue commented Comment · Aug 28, 2012

i dont really understand your poem, but there are some things i definitely like about it...
1.a drop of sugar.
2.i really like the fourth stanza... i can see that there's a lot of emotion in there.
it definitely contains some power, though i cant put my finger on what it is...

i suppose because there are strong concepts bound up.
religion always strikes a cord in a negative piece, because of (in my opinion) people's
natural undercurrents of negativity towards the subject.

another part of that stanza that caught my attention is "why dont you burn what drips from your pen then?"
because ideas revolving writing in a literal sense has always fascinated me.it just... strikes me as very creative, though rationally, it isnt, because so many people write about it.
but... i still love it.



You, who have all the passion for life that I have not? You, who can love and hate with a violence impossible to me? Why you are as elemental as fire and wind and wild things...
— Gone With the Wind