Dark vapor, twisted twilight.
Still nightfall - missing moonlight.
Quaint breeze, sluggish, cold.
Sky line- drooping, droll.
All about, simple, silent.
Dark Vapor, twisted twilight.
A lord of gold, gowned in white.
(Crown of clouds, eyes of light)
Penetrates the depths of death, and,
The once-still sparrows sing again-
To praise this true celestial sight,
A lord of gold, gowned in white.
Beauty bears a resurrection.
Reminding us, of perfection.
Which she seals within,
Chances to begin again.
Through discarding death's objections-
Beauty bears a resurrection.
You are only 17 and you are writing like this wonderful work profound beyond your age is 10 a score high enough I ask
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'A lord of gold, gowned in white. (Crown of clouds, eyes of light) ' This is so magical, sounds like an incantation. 'Through discarding death's objections- Beauty bears a resurrection.' and this is poetry. Real poetry. My thought that you are only 17 seems somehow irreverent, almost like saying, Mother Teresa was only a nun or Walt Whitman was only a nature lover. LOL