When i am hanging welcome festoons
to celebrate the on set of spring
the winter shivers once again shrilled me to the maximum
The autocratic autumn wielded its stick
and frightened me altogether in thrills
Where have you gone my beloved ?
without leaving any message of information
My blooming flower garden suddenly wore a withered look
and thick skies that are supposed to rain and green the lands
was in a fraction of a minute, been whisked away, by desert waves
The water flows that were plenty before
reduced to barest minimum surprising me in shocks
My beloved! what is the actual sin committed by me in thunders?
Live with me for our pleasure
or leave me now saying it so, if it is excactly a pressure
I will keep all your love and affection till date
in my heart and soul as valuable treasure in memories galore
Author notes
8. "Love me or leave me or rip me apart" -- "Black Mamba" by The Acadamy Is...
A contest entry
- Prompt Contest. (A) by OhNoChastity.
600 points, ended April 6, 2008, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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You did a good job with this poem. Very emotional piece (almost could think that you had experience with being left behind without a word). The writing itself was good as well. I saw a bit of alliteration, and although the topic itself was a rather, shall we say, diary piece, you took it and made it your own and with the use of strong lines, little cliches, and strong metaphor use. Good job. I also love the turn from desperate need and love and hurt to understanding. If the lover does want to leave, then let him leave, but know there will be no bitterness if he or she does what is better for the person -- which is honesty.
I loved the line "the autocratic autumn wielded it's stick." The alliteration was awesome. It felt like it was a technique purposely used, but it wasn't forced and it fit well into the poem without seeming.. out of place. The word use was perfect for the metaphor.
I found the use of seasons interesting. Does love shift with the seasons in a literal sense, or are they merely metaphors for the spring - the new life of love, summer - when it's ripe and blossoms strongly, fall - as it slowly starts to die, and winter - when it ices over. I suppose it's up to the reader to decide that. I see it as both.
Thank you for sharing this poem with me and keep writing! It's beautifully done.
-Jen
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