Flames Blood Hand
What do you think?
After my death one day come to me on the spring day, bright and beautiful winter day, a dusty autumn at a distance, empty, devoid of joy. My death will one day come to me one days of bitter, like all my days One day, he passed trough Shadow today or tomorrow. My eyes tune half dark corridors of my cheeks and cold, pale marble suddenly fell on me Sleep deprived screams. Slowly my hands glide o'er the fate of poetry issued in my hands, I remember I held the blood of the fiery poetry. Earth moves me in his arms, friends gather is to bury me Maybe there, in the north, my love, to put over the crown of many roses. EDIT: just because it is written, it does not mean that I want to die. Guys Get a Grip is the only line Edit: Thanks David for the fine points Yes, I still have much to do and learn
This work is a good chance very well. To go back and tweak anything, but the most important words. "My death … One day in spring bright and pleasant … Fall Winter distant dusty empty joyless …. A day like all my past empty today, tomorrow …." etc. Fix the lines "I fell with a scream "and" hands glide o'er the notes. I see the pictures, but the wording is harassed (why "o'er?) I think that should be installed level of service to this idea, a real poem provocatively. Yes, all deaths occur in the end, but as it is, that knowledge to change the way we should live? You have a good job here, thinking of language and images, and a small tip and the layer external ideas, you will have an unusual composition. Thank you for sharing.
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