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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didnā€™t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


There are poets whose work, without exaggeration, belongs to the treasures of human thought and rightly is a world heritage. In our electronic library you will find a wide variety of poetry.
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Read books online Ā» Poetry Ā» The Perfect Life by Danya Elmalik (i read a book .TXT) šŸ“–

Book online Ā«The Perfect Life by Danya Elmalik (i read a book .TXT) šŸ“–Ā». Author Danya Elmalik



Introduction

Iā€™d done some poetry prior to this experiment though I wasnā€™t as fond of my skills especially with my struggle to rhyme. Of course, I gave up on it for a while before I started my tenth grade. We were studying some of Thomas Hardyā€™s poetry, the main structures, style and aspects of which had inspired me. I donā€™t mean to say my poetry is as good but I would like it to be remotely as interesting. ā€œThe Perfect Lifeā€ just seemed like the perfect title for my first three-part poem in almost a year and Iā€™m hoping for some friendly argument and interpretation t and over it. Flow played an important part of the first couple of parts. Though its main plot is essentially romantic, I hadnā€™t any experience whatsoever with romance and I began to write it out as a trial with heavily poor amendments. In a nutshell, I didnā€™t really feel the need to put an effort into something I was only doing for myself which I didnā€™t feel was good enough anyways. I had started the first part of ā€œA Perfect Lifeā€ during Chemistry class and my desk mate Olivia had noticed and asked me to let her have the first read. She was one of my good friends so I let her, though I didnā€™t really want an extensive audience. She sort of encouraged me to publish it which Iā€™m grateful for because having an audience, whether hateful or kind, really means a lot to me. Most introductions probably give you some background information about a poem to help you understand it but I havenā€™t yet developed a complex structure so itā€™s pretty simple to interpret how you like. I hope you enjoy reading the poem, please give it a heart if you do and comment if you have any questions or anything youā€™d like to say, I want to know how my audience reacts to my new poetry. Thanks, in advance, for reading, though I donā€™t mind if you donā€™t.

      Part One: Crack-a-dawn

 

We met upon a velvet spot

Devoid of muck and mar

 

We fed our souls our star-crossed hearts

We love, therefore we are

How we never fail to part

My mind begins to wonder

If anything came close to ours

Degrading storm and thunder

This love would flourish evermore

And never cease to die

 

So help me if I start to bore

My thoughts would never quite

Then our plans would come to be

Our early bodies tethered

 

My eyes were never meant to see

That weā€™d grow old together

For when the tales that love foretold

Would fall into a blight

Our hearts, our lungs, our very souls

Had made our wits lose sight

Part Two: Midday

 

I count the moments passing

My sense a homely frost

Never anticipating

My life was sworn to loss

Together we were joined

Our webs would then expire

To never roam quite free again

Our souls begin to tire

No longer was it endless bliss

Or joy we couldnā€™t bear

For though our hearts could not resist

Our traits would never dare

And yet we found ā€˜usā€™ meant to be

Throughout the break of blizzard

How, how could we not have seen

The momentā€™s boisterous slither

Here lie a fableā€™s molten dreams

The burns never to scar

And here the fractured ruins lean

Forever without heart

Part Three: Midnight

 

The sole-crushed seed begins to fade

And in its place grows a rose

Its countenance would never age

Vanity unopposed

 

Through roots and stem and gorgeous petals

Its grace would such astound

With every piece forever settled

Not once making a sound

 

Affectionate displays of art

The strokes would not wander

So exquisitely joined at heart

Never to tear asunder

 

This specimen would by no means wither

Just body meant to die

Its beauty, though, quakes a simple quiver

Assuring not to cry

 

For tears of joy existed but

In tides of passionā€™s best

A silent flame though not allotted

Would die out nonetheless

Imprint

Publication Date: 10-10-2014

All Rights Reserved

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