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Post by RisYerg on Jul 19, 2011 3:42:10 GMT -5
Thunderstorm plunges twists of blades In a mute and submissive ground. Feet trample a road's corpse Wrapped in a dusty shroud. Mouths crucified in soundless cry. Quenched memories, eyes are dry. Waves of madness rattle like a bell. Just a life. Ascension. Into hell.
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Post by LonelyForsaken on Jul 19, 2011 16:17:26 GMT -5
I feel it. It speaks for its self.
The one change you might consider is removing the last two lines; “Ascension. Into hell.”
By themselves I like these lines but at the end of this they seem out of place.
Well done.
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Post by RisYerg on Jul 20, 2011 5:44:06 GMT -5
Thank you, my friend! I can't agree with you. To my mind those two lines are the very sense of this piece. All others lines are "curtains" only. Thank you so much for reading and great comment! R.Y.
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Post by Veritas on Jul 21, 2011 7:46:47 GMT -5
Why ascension? Though I supose descent would be as arbitrary. I like how it frams the road to hell.
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Post by RisYerg on Jul 22, 2011 2:12:26 GMT -5
Hi, Veritas! Why "ascension"? Ask me something much easy. I don't know Best regards, R.Y.
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