Mindblade16
I stand in silence, alone in an expanse of nothing.
The world above is colorless, as is the world below.
I cannot define my world, for it has no attributes.
Nothing forever, emptiness infinite, blinding my senses.
I am where this world begins and ends.
For I am the only substance in existence.
My form wavers, my image unclear.
I cannot see myself, nothing defined.
I exist as the only one.
I cry out into the empty world.
Only to hear my own voice.
The sound frightens me.
It is the only thing that lets me know I exist.
I am only a voice, waves of sound rippling across my universe.
Expanding waves, warping my world.
I scream louder, calling out far.
Louder and louder, for I have no limits.
My world is warping, ripples rise.
Rising above, bringing shadows over me.
Now there is something else.
Shadows dance around me.
I know that their must be light.
Or their would be no shadow.
Now my world has some definition.
My world is light and Shadow.
Swirling together, rippling out chaos.
Chaos becomes form.
Forms of objects surround me.
They reflect my face.
I didn't know I had one.
The faces frighten me.
They let me know I exist.
One of them speaks to me.
Telling me that I don't exist.
Another speaks to me.
Telling me it believes I exist.
Another speaks to me.
Telling me it knows I exist.
I talk back to them.
Telling them that none of them exist.
That they are only my reflections.
They all laugh at me.
And disappear.
I am alone again.
In an empty world.
I stand in silence.
Afraid to make another sound.
What do you think of my poem?
5 Answers
daren1
it's lonly at the top as well as the bottom , i think not. time to build a ladder
| 13 years ago. Rating: 1 | |
whovin
Gabalis
bluedeath
Interesting premise, but it needs work. For example, something more than just, "alone in an expanse of nothing." Try something like, "I stand on a carpet of moonless anguish, unfurnished joy forever wanting, forever unfulfilled, forever empty." I know my lines are not much better, but poetry should paint pictures with words and sounds of words, not just describe but feel. Its like walking into a darkened room and having the author say, the room was dark - boring. Now if the author describes the room as being, black as a starless summer night, but without the warmth of the crickets song, now at least you get a feeling for what the room might be like. Your's is a great first draft, but I am sure you could make it much more than it currently is. Use your basic idea and make it sing, feel, sting, and borrow life from sadness, while making joy feel like pain. Nothing is real but the agony of loneliness.
| 13 years ago. Rating: 1 | |
Your welcome. Good first effort. I'd love to see more from you. I'm sure if you keep at it, you're going to be a great poet!
