I thought I had posted this question already, but it's not in my profile. Oh well, here it is again:
I just wrote a new poem, and I would like someone to do a technical critique on it, and I would also like some feedback on the subject matter as well. I haven't written one in a few months, so I thought I'd do one today. It's not technically finished, as I have to go back and do some editing, and plus the story just kind of drops off out of nowhere. Anyway, please check it out:
HANDS OF THE CROSS
The cross is my companion,
my guide, my only friend
An inspiration for my hand,
and tonight it thirsts for blood,
God will satisfy His wrath
Gripped hard, the blade sings aloud
warmth flows from the wound
flesh cleaved to release crimson floods
the heathen clutches at his throat
as futility clutches at him
My Lord, to you I send praise
for the task I've been charged,
your will is mine as life is wrenched
from another nonbelieving corpse
My hands act in the name of the cross
The flag of the barbarian whores
stained with the red cleaned from my sword
my armour dulled by the avenging death
the blood smears the steel, blemished
as perfection was putrified by the sinner
The Church lends me my will
the candles alit, outline my path
i kiss the feet of Christ and the mother
moving in silence, my lips utter His prayer
from my knees to my horse, death is me
The wives of Christ, as armies of black
laundering my garb and burnishing my shell
their sweet whispers are blessings on my task;
"tomorrow the sun shall rise,
tomorrow the enemy shall die"
Galloping hard, the steeple far behind
an archway of green through a woodland of
mist and airfowls' serenade, the sunshafts thick
through the ceiling of leaves and crooked hands
a bagfull of blessings at my side, I ride for God
I just wrote a new poem, and I would like someone to do a technical critique on it, and I would also like some feedback on the subject matter as well. I haven't written one in a few months, so I thought I'd do one today. It's not technically finished, as I have to go back and do some editing, and plus the story just kind of drops off out of nowhere. Anyway, please check it out:
HANDS OF THE CROSS
The cross is my companion,
my guide, my only friend
An inspiration for my hand,
and tonight it thirsts for blood,
God will satisfy His wrath
Gripped hard, the blade sings aloud
warmth flows from the wound
flesh cleaved to release crimson floods
the heathen clutches at his throat
as futility clutches at him
My Lord, to you I send praise
for the task I've been charged,
your will is mine as life is wrenched
from another nonbelieving corpse
My hands act in the name of the cross
The flag of the barbarian whores
stained with the red cleaned from my sword
my armour dulled by the avenging death
the blood smears the steel, blemished
as perfection was putrified by the sinner
The Church lends me my will
the candles alit, outline my path
i kiss the feet of Christ and the mother
moving in silence, my lips utter His prayer
from my knees to my horse, death is me
The wives of Christ, as armies of black
laundering my garb and burnishing my shell
their sweet whispers are blessings on my task;
"tomorrow the sun shall rise,
tomorrow the enemy shall die"
Galloping hard, the steeple far behind
an archway of green through a woodland of
mist and airfowls' serenade, the sunshafts thick
through the ceiling of leaves and crooked hands
a bagfull of blessings at my side, I ride for God