Creator's fine line, existing as life and death, embodiment comes of age. Tillers of endless gloom, seek light of enlightened masses. Breath the light, day's divinity, inspiring of gods' creation. Escape the night hollow urges of unheeded desire. Turgid follicles obey cold, material, embrace. Musings of Melanthropia, creator's lust for the elusive gift that is inspiration. Embellish, interpret, confound me, slow capulation, rigorous regeneration of the muse.
wow man, this is pretty great. one thing though: you have a lot of really deep thoughts that being expressed here in some really elevated, abstract language. although this is the center of the poem, it still would be beneficial to you (and to this poem) to go through it and attempt to tie each thought to a concrete image! give it a whirl and see what you think best, -V
thank you guys for your feedback! i'll deffinitely consider doing that v, maybe not in this particular piece but deffinitely in the future. but who knows, i just might change it, my tastes do change. the reason why there are so many line breaks is because...there is no reason, other than most of my stuff has just a few words per line. i'm not sure why, but i like it. i also hope that you guys don't mind the jim morrison quote stuck in there, the doors are just a really big part of my life right now. thanks again, and i'll be posting more stuff soon (with worse titles )! Brian
