at night the moon pours down
wasted on a barren pillow
a crash as loud I haven't heard
it speaks for me and then they come
let them come.
a thousand speak and none are heard
raining down as fast
as gravity allows,
providing life in a ritual
of dark, cold proceedings.
their voices tell of journeys ended;
one more lost,
spherical and clean,
soiled and broken
from its first moment on earth.
Author notes
written 1/11/08
this is my darkest work thus far, but one of my favorites. please give me your honest opinions.
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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nicely put
i liked your imagery and the "feel" of this one
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Excellent
Hnmm...Without sounding too facitious, I hope I can say that it reminds me of old science fiction plots, like "Invasion of the Body Snatchers". Very well
written.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invasion_of_the_Body_Snatchers
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the final two lines are very strong, the 'wasted' image has been extended.
The third line didn't quite work, for me.
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is it too plain? I'm trying to stay away from gawky metaphors and cliche descriptors.
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I don't think it is too plain. I like the sparse images. The word 'relentless' springs to mind.
I am most taken with the image of the perfect sphere, the raindrop, 'soiled and broken' on contact with the earth. This is very good, and true to the cycle of life.
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