poem: My Fortress

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poem: My Fortress

Postby Mithrandir » Sat Aug 23, 2003 10:35 am

It happened when I thought that I
had built an Iron Wall.
concrete and steel, so cold, so real
so deep, so wide, so tall.

A veritable fortress where
I thought that I could stay
Content within - so far from sin
and every disarray!

I'd spend the days alone inside
remembering how I'd won.
When Satan fled, in fear and dread,
that's when the pain'd begun.

I thought I'd beaten every evil
thing that came my way
And now, "Sweet peace," I'd found release!
But it didn't work that way.

I'd got so warm and cosey behind
all that I had built
that my own lies were my demise
and yet betrayed no guilt.

For in my haste to build my walls
I'd slipped one small detail.
I'd left no door, and my decor
of walls became my jail!

Then finally, in horror, I
discovered what I'd made.
I cried to him who took my sin
yet no reply was paid.

For when I shut sin out, within
I only had myself.
And solitude is worse then pain
when trapped inside life's wealth.
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Postby uc pseudonym » Sun Aug 24, 2003 3:54 pm

Nifty. Rythmic verse is somewhat of a lost art, with everyone playing around in free-form. I like this one.
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Postby Mimichan » Mon Aug 25, 2003 3:20 pm

Nice poem. I love the rhythm of the words--it flows very well ^^
Image


"Why do people not notice until they lose it?
What it is that's truly important...
Although I can't afford to forgive even myself,
Because you were there,
I was able to be myself (Natural).
I want to be honest...I want to be kind...
I want to be the adult I once (in my childhood) longed to be.
I go on fighting against the heart to run away...
I go on fighting against that invisible something!"
---

True Navigation: Two MIX
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Postby Mithrandir » Sat Aug 30, 2003 6:01 pm

Thanks! I find it hard to write in free form. I just feel like I have to rhyme. Most of the time. It's so sublime. And not a crime. Or full of grime. It's worth a dime. *smack* Oh, sorry. Yeah.
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Postby uc pseudonym » Sat Aug 30, 2003 7:54 pm

It seems ever English class I"m in takes us through a poetry unit, each of which annoys me greatly. If you write some poetry in prose form, you can't tell the difference. I have no problem with free-form, but that goes too far.
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