Here the Hope hides from Sight,
Here all Glimmer fades from Light.
Here all stars turn Black.
And Here all skies turn White.
Here the Willows truly Weep,
Here the Hounds search On and On.
Here the Beavers build and Build,
Yet they cannot stop Death's Dawn.
Here all Beginnings End.
Here all Ends Begin.
Here the Flowers are born in Bloom,
And then they Wilt and Close.
Here is the Station
Where all the Lost
Trains of thoughts Head.
Author notes
Hehe, backround = hounds/wolves search on and on.
... Okay, I just finished, and I just realised this. Read the last word of every line in the first three stanzas. (Use sight and black as verbs)
Written May 5th, 2005
What did you think
Comments
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OoOoOoOh!! Pretty!
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Thankyou! I love how you read into my writing... you guessed exactly what I meant. One thing I wrote in here was "her all beginnings end, and here all ends begin" which kind of stememd off that proverb that implies after the end, there will be a beginning. Thankyou for your comment!
~Ninq
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I love streams of consciousness/train of thought poems... this one makes me think that the ending of this cycle of life is closer to us than we think, probably even breathing down our necks...although death to me is only the ending of a particular period, but the progenitor to birth of something new. Sometimes we must let things perish to bring about the genesis of things that could actually be beneficial Well, those are just my thoughts...this is a lovely poem with an excellent rhythm. Well done!
Many blessings,
Raven Aurora
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this is a great poem...i love it
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awesome.
it reminds me of a legend. it's that... kind of poetry: direct and melancholy. -
awesome
I love the metaphore of thought as trains... we thus have the ability to stear our thoughts in whatever direction we want... I love it! This is a very wonderful piece that really speakes to me as a poet... energetic rhythm and awesome form!
poetic munkey569
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