Description: It's probably my first poem, I just recently found it, please tear it to shreds.
Garden of Death -------------------------------------------
Death walks in the garden, under the sun
Plucking the petals one by one.
Alone he stands in the breeze,
The bloom he touches begins to freeze.
He watches the roses in their row.
He waits for all their seeds to grow.
Then he pulls up the worn and aged,
For now he passes the young and raged.
Now and then the soil he turns,
Often it leaves scars and burns.
And so it is, that I must say
In the waning light of day,
Many will draw their last breath
Here, in the Garden of Death.
No, you meant 'raged' not 'ragged' I expect, because of the rhyme. Ani just read a bit that isn't cliché! I like unusual ways of using words because that's what poetry does ... poets discover things for themselves and others. So I got a criticism too. I noticed some bits of tired, ordinary wording and felt (immediately) that they don't help your verse to be lively and tickle up the reader, even though that's what you're doing and with some success. But I won't quote them because that don't help. It's just a thought, you might tend to agree or you might not; and in either case, I enjoy your verse a lot.
I see from the introduction that it's an old one. That's a good advertisement for the others! This is the first of yours that I've read.
I knew it as soon as I saw the title. This one was going to be good. I never have a false hunch when you're in question. Very dark and i love it. The rhymes flow, the words spree and the mind behind it is as ever gushing with new ways to make my skin crawl. and it's no surprise really. This is beautiful.