Poetry / World of Black Snow
World of Black Snow
Eyes squinting open, flicker left and right, taking in such a grandiose sight.
Request to close back, not wanting to know, of the world of black, and silver white snow.
The shades of the hollow, slinking and sneaking, and taking their fill in all of their peeking.
A wind blowing by, picking what it can, but there’s no dirt, no dust, and no sand.
The only things visible, far and away, a hill on its own, in a special, odd way.
An object seen there, glinting and bright, had called for my vision, and captured my sight.
Legs trudging forward, thick snow on the ground, through all of my stumbling, not even a sound.
A gravestone I see, and then a few others, a resting place here for dead friends and our mothers.
Atop of the hill, feet halt in their place, and the shades of the hollow pick up their pace.
The object I see, it’s there and it’s here, and what’s it of course but reflection, a mirror.
An image not clear, I swipe and I clean, something begging at me for what has to be seen.
The image is clean, and I see and look down, what I saw then, I don’t wish to know now.
World of bright color, of smiles and friends, something unwanted, but sure to begin.
My world of silence, soon to change or alter, to become something else, beginning its falter.
Alone by myself, save for shades of the hollow, I’m running away, but they’re surely to follow.
The water falls down, trailing its way, these things called tears, they can not stay.
A feeling of failure, I look and I see, the shades of the hollow trail close behind me.
I stop and I stutter, and crash to damp earth, they’re surrounding me now, and giving with birth.
The world of my own, not true to exist, the shades of the hollow, vile creatures of myth.
Now I acknowledge, they’ll make me let go, this is my prison, world of black snow.
And to here I stay, escaping man kind, until my own sanity I just happen to find.
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This is a well-written poem – a nice picture of dark mysticism. One thing that jumps out at me is how you use falter as a noun instead of a verb. I’m not sure that works. Overall, I prefer when you use less exact rhymes. At the beginning, the stiff rhymes give the poem a light-hearted tone that belies its content. I think the poem is better served when you use inexact rhymes (my favourite is here/mirror, though you use several). Well done!
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