Poetry / Sub-Zero (Analysis)
I hang here, and I hear nothing but the hum of ventilation and my dying breath. The frosty air glaciates my body and shades it a deathly blue. My eyes roll mindlessly in my skull. I think I’m having a spell. These shackles constrict my wrists like starving serpents turning my hands purple as plums. My convulsions bring these chains to jingle and dance like a death song as frost falls like ash onto my sapphire lips and ruby eyes of glass now stopped in a deep freeze. These salty streams of ice have been frozen to my cheeks for days now and I am finally beginning to slip away. I will soon be nothing.
These walls are barren and evanescent as if Hades himself composed them of metallic dry ice. The mist enshrouds me like sheer white ghosts poking me with their jagged nails giving birth to a dew that sticks to my pale white skin like pure diamonds of Pluto. My life drains from my mouth and turns to fog. My memories mean all the world now, because when I die, the world will die with me.
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This piece lacks focus… it reads more like prose than poetry. Try giving it a structure, which will only help the reader to find and follow your rhythm – the voice of your work is lost – it reads like a ramble.
Your images are good, but again, without a structure, they just get lost. Break up your lines and bring it back – I’d be interested to see just how you intend it to be read.
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