http://brookeshaden.com/gallery/?page=2&title=we_are_infinite
I am painting my own sky,
in the shades of black, grey and white.
Cloaked in my pathetic existence,
ghosts of my thoughts dance,
surging above the roof and moving high.
A silent melancholic lullaby,
echoes in the dead valleys and dies,
leaving my bleeding soul hanging on a lance,
painting my own sky.
Birds of dreams are dry,
never wishing to fly.
In this vast expanse,
I roam in trance,
painting my own sky.
A Rondeau is a French form, 15 lines long, consisting of
three stanzas: a quintet, a quatrain, and a sestet with a rhyme scheme as
follows: aabba aabR aabbaR. Lines 9 and 15 are short - a refrain (R) consisting
of a phrase taken from line one
8 comments:
I like this.
Thanks for your visit.
I like the refrain, painting my own sky ~ That's a challenging poetic form, smiles ~
Beautifully put together, a deep sadness trawls through your words... Keep painting that sky, Vandana!
Yes, dreams can be exactly that: 'roaming in a trance' like state, and if the dream is good, one can roam forever, but if it is not, it can feel like an infinite prison.
You expressed this state so eloquently.
Poppy
This is beautiful. I like the thought of painting one's sky! And your words expressed it to perfection.
That's a difficult form to tackle, well done. Like the refrain - painting my own sky.
"painting my own sky" perhaps it is what keeps one grounded when bleak visits. Beautiful
Oh, I like this very much, Vanda. You've captured the melancholy mood perfectly.
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