In the gentle rays of the fading sun over the peaks of the powdery mountain tops,
lies a coldness in my heart that can’t be thawed by even the heat of the desert sand.
My love has long forsaken me for the feebleness in my motivation,
and my frozen heart has descended to the depths of hell where my fragile soul has followed.
The underworld is a cruel place to the untrained eye,
but to a marksman opportunity lurks just around every shadowy corner.
As I creep in silence awaiting the next temptation that will inevitably strengthen my bond with the devil,
there comes a whisper that strikes me in the core of my bones,
in my growling belly, in my black lungs and liver, even in my shattered spleen.
I spin in anticipation, wondering if my angelic sweetheart has returned for me.
Or could it be Lucifer hiding behind the shroud of darkness,
waiting to play yet another trick on my clouded mind?
She’s a glimmer of hope in the darkness of my world,
blue eyes sparkling like the north star on a wintery night.
My heart beats with the yearning of an Apache drum in the dryness of the summer,
as she floats toward me like the feather of a goose in the wind.
Is this just a dream? A hopeless mirage to only add more pain to my suffering?
She sees my hesitation and with a crooked smile and wink assures myself that her intentions are true.
With a clenched fist she reaches into Satan’s fiery belly to lift me toward the light,
and with the warmth of an angel my goddess pulls me back to my true destiny by her side.
I’ve been freed from the chambers of steel, the inescapable abyss of evil, never to return.
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(06-01-2014, 02:07 PM)Nujet2002 Wrote: The alliteration in the title is distracting to me.
In the gentle rays of the fading sun over the peaks of the powdery mountain tops, -- I would relax a bit on the adjectives.
lies a coldness in my heart that can’t be thawed by even the heat of the desert sand. -- Cold heart is sort of clichéd
My love has long forsaken me for the feebleness in my motivation,
and my frozen heart has descended to the depths of hell where my fragile soul has followed. -- Well if you're going to use hell you should describe it in my opinion.
The underworld is a cruel place to the untrained eye, - No kidding, or a yawning gulf for God's shit.
but to a marksman opportunity lurks just around every shadowy corner.
As I creep in silence awaiting the next temptation that will inevitably strengthen my bond with the devil, -- Which sort of devil is this? The goat-man version?
there comes a whisper that strikes me in the core of my bones,
in my growling belly, in my black lungs and liver, even in my shattered spleen. -- All of these organs have symbolic meaning and complex biology... In fact, the visceral details of biology are much more interesting than Early Modern theories about the liver as a seat of passion.
I spin in anticipation, wondering if my angelic sweetheart has returned for me. -- I can tell you that angels in Milton are weird they don't poop the same way...
Or could it be Lucifer hiding behind the shroud of darkness,
waiting to play yet another trick on my clouded mind? -- Are you Eve? Interesting role reversal if you are.
She’s a glimmer of hope in the darkness of my world,
blue eyes sparkling like the north star on a wintery night.
My heart beats with the yearning of an Apache drum in the dryness of the summer, -- In Romantic writing Indians are associated with the devil and witches or they're the magical noble savage that we can see in films like Bagger Vance.
as she floats toward me like the feather of a goose in the wind.
Is this just a dream? A hopeless mirage to only add more pain to my suffering? -- A mirage is by nature an empty sign of hope: it is an illusion.
She sees my hesitation and with a crooked smile and wink assures myself that her intentions are true.
With a clenched fist she reaches into Satan’s fiery belly to lift me toward the light,
and with the warmth of an angel my goddess pulls me back to my true destiny by her side. -- I would avoid the phrase true destiny.
I’ve been freed from the chambers of steel, the inescapable abyss of evil, never to return.
You'll have to excuse me I'm a little grumpy right now. I think the whole concept of hell is tricky. With hell, you run the risk of reveling in the land of 80s metal music, which I love, but know how horrible it is. If I were you I might consider writing something more autobiographical and perhaps playing around with some formal poetry to learn about using sounds, but don't use inversions as they can kill the best poems. That's it from me take what you want I suppose. Thanks for posting. Good luck.
I appreciate the feedback but the entire hell was supposed to be a metaphor for going down a path of sin and darkness whether it be drugs, sex, or other bad choices. She left him when he started down that path of not working on his own life and once she was gone he traveled further. The removing from satan towards the light is in fact the enlightenment she brings to change his ways and to become somebody he can be proud of. She's the one thing in his life that keeps him from giving up. And there are a few autobiographical elements to this.
(06-01-2014, 02:43 PM)Brownlie Wrote: (06-01-2014, 02:07 PM)Nujet2002 Wrote: The alliteration in the title is distracting to me.
In the gentle rays of the fading sun over the peaks of the powdery mountain tops, -- I would relax a bit on the adjectives.
lies a coldness in my heart that can’t be thawed by even the heat of the desert sand. -- Cold heart is sort of clichéd
My love has long forsaken me for the feebleness in my motivation,
and my frozen heart has descended to the depths of hell where my fragile soul has followed. -- Well if you're going to use hell you should describe it in my opinion.
The underworld is a cruel place to the untrained eye, - No kidding, or a yawning gulf for God's shit.
but to a marksman opportunity lurks just around every shadowy corner.
As I creep in silence awaiting the next temptation that will inevitably strengthen my bond with the devil, -- Which sort of devil is this? The goat-man version?
there comes a whisper that strikes me in the core of my bones,
in my growling belly, in my black lungs and liver, even in my shattered spleen. -- All of these organs have symbolic meaning and complex biology... In fact, the visceral details of biology are much more interesting than Early Modern theories about the liver as a seat of passion.
I spin in anticipation, wondering if my angelic sweetheart has returned for me. -- I can tell you that angels in Milton are weird they don't poop the same way...
Or could it be Lucifer hiding behind the shroud of darkness,
waiting to play yet another trick on my clouded mind? -- Are you Eve? Interesting role reversal if you are.
She’s a glimmer of hope in the darkness of my world,
blue eyes sparkling like the north star on a wintery night.
My heart beats with the yearning of an Apache drum in the dryness of the summer, -- In Romantic writing Indians are associated with the devil and witches or they're the magical noble savage that we can see in films like Bagger Vance.
as she floats toward me like the feather of a goose in the wind.
Is this just a dream? A hopeless mirage to only add more pain to my suffering? -- A mirage is by nature an empty sign of hope: it is an illusion.
She sees my hesitation and with a crooked smile and wink assures myself that her intentions are true.
With a clenched fist she reaches into Satan’s fiery belly to lift me toward the light,
and with the warmth of an angel my goddess pulls me back to my true destiny by her side. -- I would avoid the phrase true destiny.
I’ve been freed from the chambers of steel, the inescapable abyss of evil, never to return.
You'll have to excuse me I'm a little grumpy right now. I think the whole concept of hell is tricky. With hell, you run the risk of reveling in the land of 80s metal music, which I love, but know how horrible it is. If I were you I might consider writing something more autobiographical and perhaps playing around with some formal poetry to learn about using sounds, but don't use inversions as they can kill the best poems. That's it from me take what you want I suppose. Thanks for posting. Good luck.
NIETZCHE. check him out. If you like to read.
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