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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Permission given, permission granteddots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: pioneerheart
    Elite Ratio:    4.51 - 204/205/140
    Words: 290
    Class/Type: Poetry/Dark
    Total Views: 495
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1710



    Description:
       An angel knows the laws of the living and the dead.
    Never fear. The enemy is given the permission, always. The enemy is granted the permission, always. Fear is the key for the evil to feed. And, many questions from the enemy, for it searches for a passage to devour the good.
    Remember, permission given, permission granted. This is the advice from angels.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsPermission given, permission granteddots
    -------------------------------------------


    He takes a moment with a breath in the early morning to think of the idea of love.

    He takes back the words that cause the path to end in a petrified forest where she cries.

    Back into the place where they return in different forms, sent by the chagrin of interference.

    He spins his words with gold and sweetest intent.
    In order to bring down her angel wings from flight in the blowing world.

    She pauses to listen and hopes to understand truth when it appears.
    Her sense hones on a wild, fierce, darkness when an enemy spurns.

    Doubt is set down into a cold, empty chamber.
    He grins and reassures the fallen angel , "There is not a possibility of danger."

    He extends his hand and he proclaims his spoil.
    Alas! She is gentle as a dove, but wise as a serpent.

    She knows there is something strange in the motive of this hunter.
    He leaps to fast and boasts too soon.

    He tries to steal her kindness and moves in her quarters.
    He plans to foil her, yes, destroy her!
    The line is drawn.
    He dances with grace in enchanted haste.

    He starts again.
    He tries again to invade her sacred place
    He is crafty and rehearsed, but his deception is oblivion.

    Her light cannot embrace his curse.
    His words are broken enchantments that pierce the veil of her grace.

    He is not the one to triumph.
    And, in his confident delight he floats with dreams of spoils.
    Her wings thrust forth and she's gone in flight so far away.

    She's gone.




    Submitted on 2013-12-24 16:08:07     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      This was quite interesting and surreal but on account of the lines breaks and the format I would have, perhaps, labelled it differently. Maybe prose could have been more suitable, for my money. I do think that the following lines resemble or have the format of a poem though:

    He extends his hand and he proclaims his spoil.
    Alas! She is gentle as a dove, but wise as a serpent.

    She knows there is something strange in the motive of this hunter.
    He leaps to fast and boasts too soon.

    He tries to steal her kindness and moves in her quarters.
    He plans to foil her, yes, destroy her!
    The line is drawn.
    He dances with grace in enchanted haste.

    He starts again.
    He tries again to invade her sacred place
    He is crafty and rehearsed, but his deception is oblivion.


    As to the content, I found that some of your lines were quite riveting such as:

    His words are broken enchantments that pierce the veil of her grace.

    Her wings thrust forth and she's gone in flight so far away.

    They sort of reminded me of the last lines of a story a friend sent me the other day called "The dodo"
    Here are the lines:

    ("Alright,” he said, and then went forth to fight, and the posse came at him. But the dodo didn’t take flight, and his true feathers shone brightly in the light.)

    That's all I have to say. Hope you are doing alright and happy holidays.


    Ethan Brody


    | Posted on 2013-12-29 00:00:00 | by Ethan Brody | [ Reply to This ]


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