Fallen Poem by Nosheen Irfan

My bruises! Leaving me in throes! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

The burnt wax is cold now A shapeless mass Of dead love- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -That image was perfect perfect perfect, I've been there and I know exactly the burned out emotion lying behind these three lines. Nosheen, your mastery over imagery shakes me to the core. Leaving me in throes Of loneliness- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - the loneliness is the cold-eyed killer, waiting for the day's business to be done so it can start carving away at your soul I find no window To gaze out At the green grass That will heal my bruises- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -there doesn't seem to be anything that can succor a person in the throes of no longer being loved. Powerful. Unflinching. Truth. A master piece of writing, Nosheen. 10+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Your poem gives many images that emphasize the condition of fallen but at the very end you say: THE GREEN GRASS WILL HEAL MY SOUL. If you can contact the natural world, but your poem also lists many barriers. The weight of all of these things depresses your spirit. It is a crisis that poetry may resolve, not this poem which states the problem but other poems perhaps will use poetic imagination to break out of this paralysis. I'm going to read yourthers poems from Nov.28 - N O W

Hi Nosheen, A very emotional poem, expressing extreme loneliness. How lost love pushes one to the extremity. A shapeless mass Of dead love.... That is what is left of love, when it fails.. Between us The burnt wax is cold now- Somehow, these lines relate to the beautiful painting you have posted above. From caged thoughts I'm dying to be free- This is what happens in love, even when failed: Love imprisons my soul.100+

The darkness of loss of love is well depicted. A 10

A heartfelt poem with great poetic expression - - -To quote from the poem- - Slow is my walk Faltering my step A great distance lies Between us The burnt wax is cold now A shapeless mass Of dead love