Writing Existence

[destro53]

[u]Existence[/u]

Existence

For a thousand years and more my blood and tears have stained this earth,
The crimson sea flooding my feelings,
Death; destruction,
Masters of the abyss.

Here I am in the middle of nowhere,
Trapped in the flood of existence,
Living in a cage of doubt,
Trapped within the curse of freedom.

Poetry left out in the rain,
To face the world alone,
The ink running away,
In the silent summers rain.

I walk alone,
Down the path of hate,
The evil staring at me,
From either side.

I look ahead,
Don?t look at them,
If I ignore them,
Maybe they aren?t there.

And warriors plead on bended knee,
Weary of the passing days,
Rust and dirt stain faded feature,
And the nothing is explained with everything.

And flowers sing in muted cries,
Begging to the sky for answers,
Their unblinking eyes floded,
With tears your blind eyes cannot see.

And the floating bird,
Chained by himself,
Trapped in flight,
In the insant of eternity.

I hear the soundless shout and screams,
From animals beyond; unseen,
The voices begging to be there,
Full of wonder and awe that I am.

----

Well, what do y'all think?

[KarmaOfChaos]

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Very beautiful! I love the imagery here. However, try not to compleltly lose your meaning in it. The words are used beautifully, but if the poem becomes too obscure, no one will understand it, and that's not good!

Other than being slightly obscure with your various meanings, I really liked it. I'd love to see more work from you!

-Karma
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[Corey]

Definitly worth some merit somewhere or another.

I liked it, but Karma is right, some of your meaning got a little lost near the end.

Lonesomeness seems to be the general meaning, perhaps some boredom along with it. There is a little anger but not much. I'd like to know what inspired this poem.

[destro53]

OK, yea I added about half the poem after it was finished, and I was a little worried it got rambling. Guess I was right. I do neeed to seperate it a bit. I'll probably end up just splitting it into 2 seperat poems.

BTW, I rarely know where my inspiration comes from. Ideas pop into my head and I put them down. This was written with the goal of just writing something beatiful. If you've ever heard the song American Pie, something like that.