Mourning is for death
but death has many forms
and its arms reach out to grasp you
though your skin has barely warmed
The life of grief is long
for its only death is ours
and I shall mourn this stillness
till all the earth lie scoured.
Author notes
I think maybe this piece isn't finished. But who knows, it might be.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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bravo
for its only death is
ours
indeed. thats what im saying -
it seems finished enough- the ending is very Emily. so is the subject matter, the form, the rhyme patterns... actually, the whole peice is very Emily Dickinson.
this part:
"The life of grief is long
for its only death is ours"
is brilliant, and though i may be repeating myself, is a very Emily revelation.
i like this too:
"and its arms reach out to grasp you
though your skin has barely warmed"
that's a familiar feeling, plucked right from memory. brava!
-
Lovely poem I must say.. The flow of words is spontaneous.. The poem does not deviate from the theme.. Interesting write!
Great work
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