Post by contention on Feb 6, 2006 17:18:15 GMT -5
Ending
Down the path we tread,
Carved by feet,
Marked by man.
A cracking shield doth sprout thine eye,
To gaze upon the setting spiral;
That case misplaced
Where chastity seeped,
Shall give you life
Where others have reaped.
Into hands you shall stumble,
Cold by touch,
Yet earnestly humble;
A face cloaked
Leather bound,
Where truth is secret
Scattered round.
Forever encaged,
Locked within;
A punishment sold,
For our dying sin.
A key, a key,
For what we sought;
Eternal bliss,
Has here been wrought.
Paradise forgotten, Fires scourge,
Where the very flesh
Was rightly fourged.
To suffer, to plea,
To beg, to cringe;
The rules of justice,
Consumed by men.
Ravened skies and wilting weeds
Do curse the existence
Of all our needs.
Once was asked, I of all,
“Is this the scorn of hell?”
And with a grimace I did call,
“Tis earth who chimes that bell”
Down the path we tread,
Carved by feet,
Marked by man.
A cracking shield doth sprout thine eye,
To gaze upon the setting spiral;
That case misplaced
Where chastity seeped,
Shall give you life
Where others have reaped.
Into hands you shall stumble,
Cold by touch,
Yet earnestly humble;
A face cloaked
Leather bound,
Where truth is secret
Scattered round.
Forever encaged,
Locked within;
A punishment sold,
For our dying sin.
A key, a key,
For what we sought;
Eternal bliss,
Has here been wrought.
Paradise forgotten, Fires scourge,
Where the very flesh
Was rightly fourged.
To suffer, to plea,
To beg, to cringe;
The rules of justice,
Consumed by men.
Ravened skies and wilting weeds
Do curse the existence
Of all our needs.
Once was asked, I of all,
“Is this the scorn of hell?”
And with a grimace I did call,
“Tis earth who chimes that bell”
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Hmph, I wasn't to happy with the outcome of this poem based on the fact it was the only thing I was able to create here of late. I have had a massive block up of thoughts in my mind that I have not been able to express in any forms possible. Luckily as I came home today this thought for the poem popped into my head, and I began to write. Therefore, all of this is placed into one time sitting down. Yet I don't mind that, I just don't favor the way it sounds and the scheme it is in. It was supposed to be a simple free verse, but for some reason I had this want to put a rhyme into it. So you have a bit of a beat in there that feels very primative and I am very sorry about that if it throws anyone off.
This poem mainly focuses on the primative subject that life ends once you are born. Some believe it doesn't end until you grow, but I have the firm belief as well that living here is itself a hell. Due to the fact all the pain you must take part in for a test of some sort, or whatever anything turns out to be. The first lines of this poem have a bit of an adult form to them and have a much deeper subject at hand than they show. If you have had biology then you would know what the "shield like substance" is around a child in the womb, and I won't go on to explain what the other things are. Yet remember, the organs that make you bring life and also take life by the act of ruining innocence. Therefore chasity is lost to create you.
Once on the subject of falling in "Cold" hands, I refer to God. The hands are cold because we known not of his face, it is merely hidden in the Bible and therefore can not be properly seen or interpreted. Also truth in the bible is Scattered round, stating that you can never be sure of what is right and what is wrong. This goes on my belief that one should be able to interpret their beliefs for themselves and think independently, yet I have nothing wrong with any religon. The locked within lines refer to our souls being stuck within our bodies, a sin because we failed in the beginning of our time. Therefore, we must be locked in here until we die and can be released into something uknown to all. Those that create us are reffered to in flames is due to this belief. Someone willing to create a being that must suffer must be from hell itself. While I don't believe in that, showing earth as a type of hell helps with that quote.
We also all search for the answer inside of ourselves, therefore we are looking for the key. Yet no matter how hard we search we can never stumble across it. This could mean that the true meaning of bliss is long lost once you live the life of a human being. The list of pains are things that men use in the laws they create. Therefore to live on earth, you must abide and thrive off of those things. No matter what it may be you endure it. Ravened skies and wilting weeds goes off the fact that our world is full of pollution, hence the title "wilting weeds". We know that weeds themselves grow in uncared for conditions. If weeds themselves were to die from an uncared earth, than you get an image of distress.
