The wind breezed through curtains waving in despair.
A tinkle of bells danced from the devil's lair
ringing with a distressful purpose, chilling the wind
that coursed, while fire tormented a soul within.
The brazen hue of dust preserving memories of bliss
trembled with the soft breeze like a wavering kiss.
These memories - stashes untainted by dust lay open
on the hoary flooring next to a person lying broken.
Locks black as the iris enveloped in gloom,
glide like a fresh spring, watering flowers to bloom,
to give way to orbs shining with the last tears.
She looked up from the curse of seclusion over years.
She glanced as the devil jeered and jingled its bells
denying her the sight that would undo the spells
that scorched her heart; remains only arid waste.
This pain, this torment, is one she fights not to face.
She heaved as the lifeless cage bound tight,
with its spacious windows, boasting plentiful light,
darkened the glimmer that the gust falsely rose;
further withering a lonely withered rose.
Shook laughs in her mind, eerie laughs long dead;
rose flowers from their graves to be torn to shreds.
Not much essence of life remained in her alas
what was left, too wished to bleed away fast.
Yet a tinkle again - hummed a tinkle of hope
as the devil recoiled and the angels eloped.
The dust too vanished; it blew clear off the floor
as a bell tinkled lightly above the chamber door.
The light peering in through the widening crack
shone like blessings of heaven for the little shack
to echo again with laughter. Tears again rose
as her torment; her wait finally came to a close.
The stashes were bound, their contents unnamed.
Their melody was hushed, for new melody was claimed.
The shadows dissolved, wary doubt disappeared.
The devil was banished while the Angels prevailed.
She laughed and she cried as bells jingled around
the angels too smiled at such merry a sound.
The door was wide open; warmth openly spread.
Fresh sprouts bloomed anew from the withered flowerbed.
Thus I write this critique about this... almighty... hold on a minute, my english will let me down....
I understood the story! I will not talk about it because it was something as great... as a bag in a bag that sprouts the bag...
it is the story of the Sack, Sackarazu Bagagei... It, once upon a time, lived in seclusion, away from the furthest of the furthest parts of life where there was none save it to spare thought to the dwindling reality of its kind... hence, spoke to the sack, that the sack must elope to the dark side... and embrace destiny as the leader of the sacking... but light prevailed... and the goodness in the sack helped the sack to overcome the darkness within (notwithstanding the fact that Sackarazu would die from carrying wheat in excess amounts during the age of baggage, but who gives a bag about a sack anyway), and returning back to the baggage town from whence the sack came, it found a new meaning... a new life.. a new purpose...
now, onward to the critique:
1. Since it is a poem to be formatted, do critique on the formatting with the story.
It is formatted fine.
2. Now ignoring the formatting, did you enjoy the work (copy onto Word if you want).
I understood the story well: My personal favorite was the bells (ah, Poe is always popular, especially among the pouches *bag nod*) and the sky. The angel and the devil filled their rolls well, coming and going when need be; however the girl was the most poignant... sadly, she did not have a bag, because her tears would be wasted away as they were flowing out... we could have preserved them.
3. Was the storyline vague or did it register well?
Sackarazu Bagagei
4. Any favorite line/portion you may have?
She laughed and she cried as bells jingled around
the angels too smiled at such merry a sound.
The door was wide open; warmth openly spread.
Fresh sprouts bloomed anew from the withered flowerbed.
for the raven did not quote: Nevermore!
5. General comments.
You are now awarded a watch from this bag. Bravo.
Now, on to the crux of the matter, this critique (as usual) will be taken stanza by stanza. This is including any suggestions or concerns about formatting and mechanics or grammar issues.
Now, continuing to the next line, tinkle's effect is fine although the use of a bold devil's is questionable. However, that is not the main concern. "A tinkle did sound as bells from the devil's lair/rang" reads with a rhythm that runs together, the first few words weigh heavily on the tongue, heavier than should be for a gentle sound. A possible solution could be to rewrite the line with a sound to aid the gentle rhythm: "The tinkle of bells danced from the devil's lair/ringing..."
The rest of the stanza reads fine, but if taking into account this is a formatted poem, verbs matter more than usual when writing a literary piece. Wind doesn't really course or past an object unless it is traveling through an object, rather, it glides or flies. [aimed toward "chilling the wind that coursed" in the third and fourth lines]
The formatting of soft and wavering kiss is also a quandary. Why subscript soft instead of merely italicizing it; moreover, why use intermediate spacing onand italicize wavering when wavering is shaky or unsure. Perhaps making "wavering" a smaller size and bold to emphasize the level of uncertainty would have a clearer meaning?
The purpose of a word stricken through is to show a rushed, uncertain atmosphere; however, the placement of yet seems out of place, maybe even superfluous. The line would actually read smoother without the word placed in the piece at all.
Within the second line, the first comma should be removed. The entire line is a single thought [or is it?], to separate it only chops the thought in two, breaking the rhythm.
The "to" at the beginning of the third line is unnecessary as the second line is simply a metaphor and does not break the meaning of the sentence. Read as a single sentence, the first and third lines doe not need the prior "to".
The final line reads fine.
As the end of the third line approaches, the meaning looses its clarity. What exactly is remaining a desert and not dying?
Once again, the final line reads fine.
There should be some sort of pause after the "alas" in the third line.
The second line is fine but for a single question: who do the angels get eloped with? Although, this is more a personal curiosity than a concern.
The third and fourth lines read fine, but a simple change can be made to line three to smooth its rhythm. The semicolon may be removed and "it blew" changed to "blowing".
A semicolon seems to long of a pause in the last line, a simple comma would help the rhythm much more.
In addtion, the double use of spread within the third line is bothersome. Modifying either use would be helpful.
The formatting of the final line doesn't do much for the poem itself. Removing the bold (and the "had"...another personal opinion) and enlisting in another formatting device would perhaps help bring the ending home.
Now, that all of the formatting and critique is done, I may give you my personal opinion:
This poem is completely and utterly wonderful. I love the meaning behind and the possible symbolism. All the mistakes and things mentioned above are semantics, the poem is plenty good with them included. Although, having gone through the entire poem in such a manner, I cannot say I have a favorite line!
I understand the meaning, although the ending is a bit of a let down, I expecting something ....climatic.
The rhyming is also a nice touch; although forced at times, it brings a lightened feeling to the piece.
All in all, I highly enjoyed this piece.
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