what is this folly so carelessly knighted by
way of a thrusting of swords through the heartís vessels?
washing the hands of attendants in blood from wounds
openly spewing from fountains of youthfulness;
end of a figure transfers to another the
hopelessness cloaking all efforts for change men try
bringing to earth, which has changed but position in
space and in time as it looms from eternal rest;
trapped in expiring forms which in dirt will lie
evermore now and forever consumed by all
worms and all plants which will grow to contented die,
how can a soul ever dream to achieve the moon?
still it will come with all reason and thought denied,
still it believes that the sun will be grasped but soon.
You have a wonderful way with words
It's very well written. Nice structure and quite stylish. Fine composition.
My seriously decrepit mind, I've never seen this form before...strange, it doesn't feel anythin glike what I'm used to in western writers.
When I found it, I was also kind of surprised. I guess it was formed by either an innovator or the peasantry (fuuny how that pairing works out).
Ah, the Bref Double, a style I don't much like (writing wise), but you have made it work... Made it work very well. Excellent poem.