Forums » Smalltalk » A bit of Free Verse Poetry (Cause why not?)

Woah, it's been a while since I was on here So for some reason, I've been feeling a bit more inspired creatively than usual. I thought I might exploit this surge of inspiration and write something. So I thought: 'why not a poem?'. It's been over a year since I last wrote a poem and I thought I might share one I've been working on for like... two days XP Of course, I'm a little rusty and some constructive criticism will be helpful, but please keep it light

Okay, anyway, this a free verse poem I wrote about a topic I'll leave you all up for interpretation. If you can guess what it's about then I will give you... nothing, it's pretty obvious

Black Winds and Crimson Waters – A Free Verse Poem

Horizons shining,
Horizons waning,
Horizons gone,
Lightlessness above,
Around him,
Around them,
Bang...

Winds as black as tar,
as black as smoke...
smoke of lead...
Bang...
Fire born from metal,
fire of Mars,
whistling trajectory of pain,
of fear,
of death...
Bang...

Winds of choking black
smelt of lead,
the smell of water,
crimson water,
in rivers it flows...
Bang...

Screams of agony,
of despair,
of doom,
smells of both metals,
filling the air,
black putrid air,
the wind takes it...
Bang...

He amidst the blackness,
of both winds and of darkness,
his lead flew,
red waters,
crimson waters...
Bang...
Dawn arose,
as slow as a snail,
lead was faster...
Bang...

He thought it was God,
an epoch of fire,
the fire waning...
Bang...
Further the fire wanes,
but rivers still flow,
shadowed fruit dropping from harvest,
the Reaper smiles...
Bang...

Lead flies,
rivers flow,
fruit drops,
Reaper harvests,
God is near...
Bang...

His luck of Fortuna,
his aim of Tell,
the dawn ahead,
a black wall of lead...
Bang...

Scarlet splatters,
coating his figure,
his face,
it brightens,
he thought it was God,
rising from the horizons,
mighty titan,
titan of heaven,
of light...
Bang...

The fire wanes,
driven demons of destruction,
dead as dirt,
red fruit for the Reaper...
Click... he was empty...

He thought it was God...
Light of purity,
like a beacon at sea,
a troubled sea,
a sea of smoke,
of red waters,
of ripe fruit...

He looked,
harvest was fruitful,
crimson rivers ran,
return of rule,
God's rule.

His sorrow wells,
his fellows fell,
dear God,
what has become of this?

Black winds,
crimson waters,
red fruit,
he could see it all...
but he lived...