Dead is the music of my soul,
Words wilt on faded lips
the rusty, antique heart-string
ascends to a bathos….and rips
the idyllic harmony
straying through cacophony …
…rests, rises and trips!
Thank you Priya! This reminds me of someone who plays the violin, but I'm not sure if you do. Nice use here of all words in reference to sound. I must agree with Asma on this also. Another image I'm reminded of here is the delicacy (meaning delicateness) of roses and how difficult they are to grow. Perhaps your own poetry blooms as roses in someone else's eyes, so be careful as you step and nourish your words carefully. Shane
a beautiful poem, Priya... a very skillful use of lexis from the music register... and the use of the words 'wilt', 'faded', 'rusty', 'rips', 'cacophony', 'trips'....create a perfect picture of disharmony and discord... the title 'Decrescendo' and the use of the word 'bathos' very aptly convey a sense of fading away.... Asma...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like how you compared life (or soul) to the force of sound in music. Great write!