Hopeless Beautiful

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Tags:
  • Loss
  • ,
  • Childhood
    • Desmotti
    • The wraith is but sadness in mortal form. It haunts to hunt, and hunts to feed. It cannot feed on any emotion. This is its pain. for emotion is not segregated it is fealt, and to feel is warmth.

    Hopeless Beautiful

    And when I look upon the face of sorrow...
    When I taste the lips of despair...
    The reign of tears burns the dream fields to shadow...
    Upon my face...all their ashes I wear...

    Only memory can serve the shadow soul...
    The ego that fell far too low...
    All weary look out upon waters...
    Down the rivers of woe...we all flow...

    When we look upon faces of the hopeless...
    When their Eyes are empty of care...
    The reign of fire burns to stubble the remnant...
    Of a beautiful that's no longer there.

    And I sift through all ancient...mine memories...
    Those pictures that bind my tired mind...
    Wrapped in childhood wake side dreamscapes...
    Hopes burned by the flames of...time.

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    dumplin commented on Hopeless Beautiful

    04-27-2010

    A very nice blending of words and ideas. I felt the emotion in this piece. Nice work!

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    Desmotti’s Poems (25)