Post by contention on Apr 13, 2006 20:17:15 GMT -5
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This poem has many settings wrong with it, and took far to long to complete and get out of process. However, there is something about it which was made to touch at the fact of what human beings alike see through things. Such as their actions toward the world and the way that is viewed through the eyes. A moral tried for a grasp is that of, "Seeing things in two diffrent colors" that of white and black, but the two together and you get gray. It's a world where things are natural and happy only for a reason. Where every step that you took, you feel you take for some outlined fate that will be fall you. What takes place, takes place and you can not change it. Such is what this poem goes after, and in a way ridicules the beast like behaviour that forms this essence in the mind. Why would it be that humanity would thrive on this pesstimistic outlook? That's something that everyone holds onto diffrently, there are many ways that the world turns, and many ways to take that into consideration.
The first part of the poem reaches out to explain the gray sculpture that is issued on this world. In a way, this existence is labled as nothing more but a canvas, that of which is stroked in gray. From such things, it exposes this life as being nothing more but what is. Like a feeling of Apathy that there is nothing to do. The woven brush line goes on to explain that there are things out there to change it, diffrent relations that could evolve it, however by our standards we shall never partake in it's brush. Therefore, nothing can brighten the aspects that are viewed. Upon the next area, certain images were brought to mind to complete that. It's other meaning is that of losing a balance of dreams that one can see. Hopes and Faith are lost to the scales that are witheld by the weights that decide the outcome of matters. Realisticaly, this was brought out from when one washes a brush. When doing so, the colors mix within the brush. Turning itself a dark gray and causing the edges of the piece to mix together, making a braid like appearance.
This parch, so unearthly, yet constructed by Nature is nothing without creativity. Without the come of "March". March is the start of spring, the birth of change. This is brought away by the Westward wind, the start of Fall and Winter. The two times that all must fade to things none shall know until their winds blow. The word chapled was used in a mention of ridicule from the church. Mentioning it with a verb established for, "The End". Layed in ashes, and forever going; when one dies they return to the earth in a downward fashion. Yet in our eyes we view death as a fear, something to escape, it is the fall and figuratively feared by Mankind and his clutch on material items. The next nine lines are used to express the borders that hold us in. They stick to the subject of earth being but a canvas of paper to pain upon. By doing so, it creates our border line as a spot left off by Nature. Once one becomes, "Part" of nature they have come to the edge and can not leave. Word usage such as "Bottom Brink" were used to give off a sense of horror in the usage that, mankind can't handle what they don't know.
One can imagine the use of an etching tip, pen, being that of a heavy dark. That of the "Black" in our lives. And the next lines of "Pamper, shiek, and bleak" were used to give off a weak exterior, forming an image of "White". Bringing the two, "views" of the world together. Leaving off in this stanza, the last lines are used to riddle there way into a heavy existance. Giving off something sharp and dull about the views we give off. This picture perfect is weighed down by our own creations, we decapitate the lives of what we thrive upon.
The whole last stanza is explained in many diffrent ways, and in fact it is an unwanted piece. So in favor, it's full meaning is that delievered on how we treat or world. The breaking form of it, and the way that the views collide. No matter how many times they face off, both always lose. These harsher parts of our life can never take over, if they were, mankind would be overthrown by their own power. So thus, each time they draw blades, they both run flat to the end line. They can't compete nor come to a conclusion. Ending off the piece is that of a line, explaining our existance here. It's disturbance to what nature was. Taking the color out of the hills, replacing it with that of the backbone of ourselves. Making it pale, human like, and in our control.
