Forum Moderators: wheatpenny, Wolfenshire
Writers F.A.Q (Last Updated: 2024 Nov 06 3:50 am)
It's great to see you back! I keep getting stuck on the last few lines as well. I love the first part, but I can't quite reconcile the last 4 lines. You might want to turn it into 3 stanzas, with the last 2 stanzas being the last 4 lines. (I think that's what you suggested above but I'm not sure.) It may sound quibbling, but should "This unknown shepherd" be "The unknown shepherd" instead? "This" makes it sound like there's more than one and you're pointing out a specific one, which seems strange since he's unknown. I wish I could be of more help but I can't put my finger on what doesn't fit on those last few lines. The first part is right on target, though. Cheers!
Hey, Crescent! Long time no see! Yeah, I see what you guys are saying. Basically what I'm trying to say is that whoever "breaks", or separates, the saved from the damned (the shepherd) has not come to the character in the poem, therefore he/she does not know which way he's headed. So, I guess it would go like this? Ignorant for the lives of eons untold, And dusty creeds of broken spirits: I revel in my ignorance, and sweep the rush forward. My breath is tainted, broken, unfurled, like speared souls on high city fences. This gory truth spits on my face: The light, it seems, is guide to damned and saved. What breaks them? I do not know. This unknown shepherd will not come for me.
For the eons of lives who've left and nothing said. Dusty creeds upon broken spirts revel in ignorance. Crushed, swept, rushing forward, it's breath tainted, unfurled like the voices of speared souls upon high city fences. I cry out from the beyond this packed empty abyss. The light seems to be a guide for only the damn to be saved. What breaks them? I, do not know. As the truth drips from being spat upon my face. I have no sence of the unknown shepard calling upon me. Am I damned to be saved... NO, I shall join in the chorus of the dead to be laid.
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Wrote this in a three minute rush... you know how it is sometimes. ;)
Ignorant
for the lives of eons untold,
And dusty creeds of broken spirits:
I revel in my ignorance,
and sweep the rush forward.
My breath is tainted,
broken, unfurled,
like speared souls on high city fences.
This gory truth spits on my face:
The light, it seems,
is guide to damned and saved.
What breaks them?
I do not know.
This unknown shepherd
will not come for me.
Ian F. Brillembourg