My friend just laughed at it. Well, yeah, thou, thee, etc. don't sound good when the rest of the poem isn't in old English...hehe. I'll just post it anyway, don't judge, it's bad, I know, but you chose to read it although I warned you. :)
Black hole, how large thou art,
Ripping thy trees apart.
No care if sapling, or grand,
Gnarled wood, birch, maple, oak
Pines, I see, that choice lies
With fruits falling upon me.
I can not choose, or help,
With disaster coming
Over thee. Watch, feel, hear, push,
But I can't answer thy
Pleadings for mercy.
Stillness fills your soul,
Brain loses control.
Memory plans escape,
Blackness awaits thy thoughts,
Coldness awaits the woods,
Pointing at the last step,
The hardest, yet easy
Step until foggy breath
Cocoons thee safely.
If you understand what I meant, you'll probably see the tragic illness described. No worries, the poem isn't about me, or anyone I know. It just seemed right to write about depression. Peace, xoxo Marethyu
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen