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[ again, this cold ]

again this cold seeps to my bones.
My flesh coat holds not the winter away.

This darkness,
that exists outside physical light,
is forever my only companion
but on occasion I hold the attention of a flame,
moths gather,
              AND
When the flame is smothered or the fuel too thin
My night creeps back again.

I am trapped inside this cage of language
the isolation of my mind is my deepest night.
   
I know when the sun peeks over the horizon,
I will meet jolly Death,
the friend of all.
Then,

I breathe my last breath.

What should I change?

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
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Comments


  • written-in-ink
    September 27

    Edit | Reply
    i dont like the syntax of it
    like
    th shape of it it distracts from some of the nice words int he poem

    i lovee

    the second stanza


  • AllThatRemains
    September 4

    Edit | Reply
    Awww.
    This hurts; I know exactly what this feels like, and I am terribly sorry.

    but on occasion
    I hold the attention of a flame,
    moths gather,
    AND
    When the flame is smothered
    or the fuel too thin
    My night creeps back again.

    was my favourite bit, but really, the whole thing is beautiful.