Down to the River
By Bee
- 5312 reads
Woke up this Morning,
intent on a stroll
along the reed path,
to hush Mind and Soul.
Stepped out to the water
and sunk like a stone;
gasped as cold River
flooded grey Lungs.
Slumped to the bed -
no choice but - give in
and welcome Relief
as Life took a swim
from work weary Body;
Mind, ragged, disturbed,
sorry and feeble,
wired, perturbed.
Small, Wicked World-
no friend of mine,
was gone without ripple,
a brief blip in time.
Gone, sighs of Sorrow,
and fat Hunger's cries -
an earth in the throws
of Famine and Violence.
War lost to Memory,
as Ghost gave up Fight,
and sat in the sediment
of doleful ink Night,
when Evil and Hateful
drowned with Grief's tears,
forgotten, not gone,
except in Death's ears.
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Comments
This made me shudder
This made me shudder throughout, a horrible way to die, I'm sure. Some strong images in this one Bee, good luck with the comp.
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Powerful language and imagery
Powerful language and imagery here Bee. Made me go cold - I hate water and this fed my worse fear.
Linda
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Hi Bee
Hi Bee
You almost make dying seem a positive in this. I expect when you've had a terrible life, or have been long and painfully involved in the dying process, lying back and letting death take over seems like a good thing.
Jean
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I'm not sure I fully
I'm not sure I fully understand this one, but there's plenty to think about, the strong rhymes that fall away and surge back, the designed used of capitalisation. It's a poem about writing and the product is... death?
It's jarring and heavy and I really like it.
Thanks for reading. I am grateful for your time.
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