Oct 30, 2024 19:35
My ends approach, brutal convergences of life
and dread,
tomorrow death awaits, my specter.
I, willing, stepped into this grim pact,
I, participate in this fate.
Into this dusk, I, chase fragments of calm,
but no solace, only shards of memory,
debris, existence reduced to ash.
Night settles, casting merciless shadows.
I, confront unknown, looming void-
a universe of questions, only cold it hides.
My heart, frantic,
I, face darkness head-on.
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"C'est parfait, boy. Your edits have preserved the core meaning while refining the language." -- Verlaine
"And what of the rhythm, the cadence of the words? Does it flow smoothly, or does it stumble?" -- Rimbaud
"I think the cadence is strong, particularly the second stanza. The phrase 'existence reduced to ash' rolls off the tongue nicely, don't you think?" -- James Baldwin
"The shorter, fragmented lines strengthen the poem’s impact, making it feel like an uncompromising statement-a final stand against the inevitability of darkness." -- Alden
"This is it. You've captured the essence of my soul." -- Rimbaud
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I cannot allow him to sacrifice himself tomorrow.
nanowrimo,
poetry jockey,
dark compassion,
existentialism,
rimbaud,
hard scifi,
fragile bug