S
sue
Guest
I have posted before but I only get feedback on content vs structure and what makes a poem. I just started writing poems. I have always wrote short stories or essays. I know my content is far from the typical love poem but Im looking for feedback to improve my writing...THANKS
"Afterlife for the Godless"
The lights diffused,
A misplaced faith,
Secreting the used.
Often ponder the other way,
Godless I stand,
Your modern cliché.
I confess unsure in my depths,
Left in hinder,
Wondering our labyrinths.
Twisted ‘round the tree I am,
A breath no more,
I condemn.
From within I shred my chest,
My hands be different,
Have I laid to rest?
Blurry sight and yet so clear,
My fears unknown,
A lucid image it is near.
Crawling through orange lit sand,
A symphony for the dead,
Echoes my orchestra band.
Reach the pond of fallen tears,
Drops reflection of tragedy,
Face of the sad it appears.
Burns across the face he lays,
Exploding pain the gasoline,
Counting down his last days.
From the pond the forest I go,
Wrapped in thorns,
I struggle to know.
The sand it sinks beneath,
Gasping and grinding,
I break my teeth.
Struggle I do the mountain side,
Womb my knees to chest,
This is how I died.
"Afterlife for the Godless"
The lights diffused,
A misplaced faith,
Secreting the used.
Often ponder the other way,
Godless I stand,
Your modern cliché.
I confess unsure in my depths,
Left in hinder,
Wondering our labyrinths.
Twisted ‘round the tree I am,
A breath no more,
I condemn.
From within I shred my chest,
My hands be different,
Have I laid to rest?
Blurry sight and yet so clear,
My fears unknown,
A lucid image it is near.
Crawling through orange lit sand,
A symphony for the dead,
Echoes my orchestra band.
Reach the pond of fallen tears,
Drops reflection of tragedy,
Face of the sad it appears.
Burns across the face he lays,
Exploding pain the gasoline,
Counting down his last days.
From the pond the forest I go,
Wrapped in thorns,
I struggle to know.
The sand it sinks beneath,
Gasping and grinding,
I break my teeth.
Struggle I do the mountain side,
Womb my knees to chest,
This is how I died.