A Writing Exercise At 3am Poem by amber roser

A Writing Exercise At 3am

Rating: 5.0

DEATH is....

* to some a torment, spent in hells eternal night
to some a relief, the weary soul taking flight
to some a reward, promising heavens shining light
to some a nothingness, the simple ending of sight
but to all it's a promise, humanities birthright.

* a closing of the eyes so that there may be an opening of the mind

SIN is....

* an idea that can bind you faster than the strongest chain

* a parent threatens the wilful child with the 'boogeyman' society threatens the wilful soul with 'sin'

REVENGE is....

* a crime when committed by man, justice when committed by society

* when an obsession with anothers aggression leads to the possession of our own transgression

PEACE is.....

* the prize of war, only won with an ocean of fathomless tears for the uncounted dead

* the dream of many ransomed by the will of a few

* the antithesis of want, the two can never exist side by side only when there is none found wanting, can peace be found

HOPE is.....

* a solitary spark in the darkness that, when ignited, sends the shadows fleeing and illuminates the entire world

* a rare and precious gift. once received none can take it by force or guile, if lost it can always be re-found and can be endlessly given without diminishing itself

* a beacon to guide you through the tempestuous seas of life but if you lose sight of it, you are lost on the calmest of clear days

Monday, October 5, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: miscellaneous
Eric Cockrell 24 September 2011

very good poem... shows much thought.... as for peace, it begins within and emanates outward, can never be won by war. like this one very much!

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Elena Sandu 01 September 2011

Wise thoughts, what I love the most is one about the hopes! Very good poem, thank you for share,10

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Killing Hope 10 October 2009

Great job on the poem, well said.

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Pedro Cescon 08 October 2009

Actually, I went through your poems because of your PM. Yet, don't be mistaken, I wouldn't make a comment if your work couldn't touch me. This is one of a kind poem. It reminds me of Mister Rober Frost. Not because of the style or words used, but because most of his works, as this one, inspires me the awe and the wish that I, someday, could be able to create such a masterpiece. The way you used words and gave them meanings, that was quite precious. Congrats =)

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Eyan Desir 07 October 2009

Well written all true A pleasure to read

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