06-04-2015, 06:14 PM
In the Abandoned Garden Fantastic title for the poem
Nameless, shapeless, faceless,
society's blood red chestnut blight.
Darkness envelopes and coddles,
even moonlight ignores his plight.Favorite line from the poem, extracts the raw emotions felt when reading
Earthy mulch smudged tatters,
neglected gazettes, rested head.
Blanket wriggles and scuttles,
inky plume-lined feather bed. Would revise the last two lines, a bit unclear of what you are trying to convey
Vacant corpse, decaying tree,
a meager voiceless hermit.
A withering rose of consciousness,
once sown amongst the vermin.
Nameless, shapeless, faceless,
society's blood red chestnut blight.
Darkness envelopes and coddles,
even moonlight ignores his plight.Favorite line from the poem, extracts the raw emotions felt when reading
Earthy mulch smudged tatters,
neglected gazettes, rested head.
Blanket wriggles and scuttles,
inky plume-lined feather bed. Would revise the last two lines, a bit unclear of what you are trying to convey
Vacant corpse, decaying tree,
a meager voiceless hermit.
A withering rose of consciousness,
once sown amongst the vermin.