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| Topic: Epic (unedited) | |
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The emotional bass drum mixed with smooth guitar riffs,
Like a musical to my already misery stricken life. The climb to the top of the decibal meter, And the quick fall back down to the bottom most tempo. Like a guitar chord to this withered, broken soul, A bass riff to hit at the right time with the right mood. The epic drum hits with the right stroke of madness, Complete with a seranade to my own deep sadness. Hope fails to calm these severed nerves of numbness, I really am just that hopeless. Like the bass to move on from the withered, broken soul, A guitar chord to hit the right nerve and invoke the mood. Like a song my life is a played out rhythmic queue, With no vocals my pain, anger, and sadness is heard. Like a voyage along a road that will never end, The mighty strokes move along from the tip of this pen. Like the bird to chirp the morning breeze, A breeze picks up and moves the trees. Move along with the violins' stunning sound, Moving on with a cellos' vibrant count. The conductor swinging his arms along the melody, With each stroke of his mighty baton moves this soul on. Just like the grand epic setting that was romance. |
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nice, fear
original use of ... i cant fecking critique so i wont try but i like it 
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nice, fear original use of ... i cant fecking critique so i wont try but i like it
It is nice to give encouragement to other poets deemed "non-poetical" I am sure when people post their work here they are not expecting criticism , try encouraging them, it works wonders. 
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You truly are epic. I love it
Romance is something musical in many ways I think
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*applause* {{{Fear}}} This is an epic write!
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Music and romance go hand in hand...each amplifying the other...great work
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Thank you for all the comments, as always they are much appreciated.
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wow! just wow........a baroque painting to say the very least!!!
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The emotional bass drum mixed with smooth guitar riffs, Like a musical to my already misery stricken life. The climb to the top of the decibal meter, And the quick fall back down to the bottom most tempo. Like a guitar chord to this withered, broken soul, A bass riff to hit at the right time with the right mood. The epic drum hits with the right stroke of madness, Complete with a seranade to my own deep sadness. Hope fails to calm these severed nerves of numbness, I really am just that hopeless. Like the bass to move on from the withered, broken soul, A guitar chord to hit the right nerve and invoke the mood. Like a song my life is a played out rhythmic queue, With no vocals my pain, anger, and sadness is heard. Like a voyage along a road that will never end, The mighty strokes move along from the tip of this pen. Like the bird to chirp the morning breeze, A breeze picks up and moves the trees. Move along with the violins' stunning sound, Moving on with a cellos' vibrant count. The conductor swinging his arms along the melody, With each stroke of his mighty baton moves this soul on. Just like the grand epic setting that was romance. Sigh pull across the strings,once more with just a silver thread soft and almost silent a lowing lull, this dread. Take me to our hidden rest and hold me close listen as the distant train calls out your longing most. Stretch and sing your weary, As evening draws close Hear her tender sigh give way Embrace tis now, repose. Raine Les 8/31/2009 |
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Thanks for the comments, hope you enjoyed the read.
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