Well, I suppose I will continue to post, since so many people want me too. And also because I had a really good idea. Course, I forgot it by now, so I'll just do a poem, methinks:
The Land of Grey
I journey down to twilight's shore,
And I find there
A grey old door.
I go through, and find a place,
With indistinctness,
With no face.
Deep within this land of grey,
There is no night,
There is no day.
The only thing that can be found
Are lost souls,
For far around.
They wander here, they wander there,
Each one, with just,
A single care.
They want to leave this land of wastes,
And find a way,
To better place.
They cannot stand the the land of sun,
But at the darkness,
They still run.
Why I'm here, I do not know,
But something wants
Me not to go.
It follows me for quite a time,
As I wander,
Making rhyme.
As I walk I feel it close,
An evil trap,
A bloody rose.
And so I take to instant flight,
And fast return
Into the light.
That land of shadows, mist and grey,
It is not night
But hates the day.
It's something worse, stuck in between
A place of dangers
All unseen.
Wow, that was haunting. Anyways, it's good to be back. Not that I was gone very long, but I digress. I guess the point of that poem is that for me, I think it worse to have no convictions then to have evil ones. To coin a phrase: "If you don't stand for something, then you haven't got anything." Not very eloquent. Ah well, that's what poems are for, right?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 comments:
Did you write that, too? Man...freakin' awesome!
Yes, I did write it. Thank you.
Wow. That literally gave me goose bumps. Very well done.
The theme sort of reminds me of Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four.
this was awesome
It's been awhile since you posted that poem, but I keep reading it over and over. It is really REALLY good, Dom. You have a gift ;D
who?
Yes you do have a gift! Man! An unbelievable gift! You definitely should become a writer when your on your own! Talk about the next generation's Tolkien!!!!
Yes, great poem. Great archetypal imagery - touches the essence somehow of who we are.
Love,
Dad
Post a Comment