I took your hand as you
led me up stone steps
that look like they'd crumble anytime soon...
into a sea of flames.
the echos of ancient sins
told of humanity's blaze of glory
every time our toes tapped.
up up up,
I lost count of the steps
and you pushed the skeletons
of vain survivors
down down down.
their bodies hit rock bottom.
they died on the way to the top.
Babel's voicelessness had stories, too -
man's desire to reach Heaven
was greeted with cries of God's hate.
yet our languages still spoke of
greed and lust.
would we misunderstand each other, too?
your eyes hushed...
(if all else failed, we could speak with our tongues.)
my food hit air:
tower to see the Lord's land
was forever forbidden by sacred priests
threatening a second storm.
but who could imagine the flood of hate
when we proved them wrong?
up there, we saw...
nothing.
~~~
Author notes
eh.
critical critiques please.
A contest entry
- Two years here. by Viva La Vie Boheme.
925 points, ended July 4, 2008, 11 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
...
Comments
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I always knew you were an excellent poet..you put your passion and heart into this....excellent controversy....you are still my spotlight....best of luck!
-
You have a typo here:
"would we misunderstnad each other, too?"
I like the theme and the ambiance created by the story. You have a good tone of voice. Very interesting.
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this is really amzeing sisy
your such a greta writer -
Wow, what do you say to something like this.
My only lil suggestion would be this.
On this line you start off with -
but who could imagine the flood of hate
I personally don't think the word "but" should be there and it would sound better off like :
who could imagine the flood of hate
That's just me tho and it's not really a big thing.
This poem is mindblowing, and powerful.
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