10-31-2016, 12:17 PM
The imagery of this poem is powerdul. I can really feel the exhaustion and loneliness, but it isn't too "woe is me" to be a put off. The only line I don't understand is:
"The oldest lion has accepted its limitations
Its mind slides though satin into thorn, thorn to shadow.
A bush may burn but only in failing machinations
His pride now has none."
It doesn't make sense to me with the rest of the poem, and I feel like it was a filler to rhyme with "limitations"
Just a random word to toss out there, but "lamentations" could work with something. Although it might be a little too similar to "limitations" for comfort.
"The oldest lion has accepted its limitations
Its mind slides though satin into thorn, thorn to shadow.
A bush may burn but only in failing machinations
His pride now has none."
It doesn't make sense to me with the rest of the poem, and I feel like it was a filler to rhyme with "limitations"
Just a random word to toss out there, but "lamentations" could work with something. Although it might be a little too similar to "limitations" for comfort.