Pen and Sword

About- Hmm......hard to express, gotta read it to understand.

NOTE- when reading the poem don't use the 'word wrap' option under format, cuz ive added explanations next to sum lines, but u should use it when reading the explanation, cuz it makes it easier to read.


Pen mightier than the sword,
And the axe, the bow, the mace;
Ink unveils the world abroad,
With chaste taste.
My pen, my ink conquered more,
Thanst I should repress,
As the bearer of this sword,
Words wer’ mine fort.

Gave birth to a thousand seas,
With diamonds sparking in.
Beaming sun with tufts of hair, (tufts of hair are the clouds)
The warm, cool breeze.
Or move to the woods, with heavy airen aura, (the air is heavy and humid)
With crunched footsteps taken to move, (footsteps crunchy coz o the dry leaves on the ground)
To play with shadows numberless.

Never failed- defend myself,
From armies of emotion; nor did leaden thoughts e'er best motion, (leaden thoughts- depressing thoughts)
Of my pen, and deep deep ink; armored count and counterless.
Yet there had begun a most strange sensation,
Dawning somewhere down, creeping up with pleasent beration,
Or, pointless query- all mere imagination?

Disarmed me, unfamiliar hum, till 'twas all I manage notice,
All else begun- slip away,
All the lights and sustaining rays:
of Melancholy, gloom and depression.
Tinge begot another tingle,
Began itself to mingle, with locked mental treasure chest,
Bred and bred, till could hold no more, it had best. ('bested'as won in figthing, not best as 'the best movie')
Somewhere, something: tension had sore,
Washed at sea and was I at shore.

Naught remains of my weapons,
My forts crumbled down,
Thick, powdery, gagging haze is left,
'tis nothing evermore.
Nothing evermore.

Comments-
Ok the point i tried to express in this article is rather twisted, and I would imagine, easy to loose track of. Initially it portrays my merits and abilities as a writer and how good i am, lol (bear with me, the self-flattery has a point...), how i could make a beach or a forest feel more real than it would be to actually visit it. I was armed with words as weapons, and little stumped me.

I could always express complex emotions, and darker, suicidal thoughts and tendencies clearly and succintly. And then the unfamiliar feeling occurs. and it begins to consume all thats important: my depression, melancholy and gloom (although it could be argued that decimation of these things would be good, it remains that they're a very important part of me, thus to destroy them would be to destroy an important aspect of myself).

So, slowly this feeling grew exponentially with time, untill, it exploded, breaking the tension. Thus I was completly lost after this 'explosion' and regarding the sea i had managed to describe so beautifully earlier, now, the sea is completly different in my perception. (my earlier descriptions of the sea is the same as a description of the shore, thus effectively not descriptive at all)

So this 'explosion' desecrated my weapons and forts ( my ability as a writer), and nothing was left but the smoky haze that is left when a building crahses down...ie. it mocks the earlier structure (my work) since its the abominable residue floating in the air that lingers around.

And so, my work never was, and never will be anything.

After this deep explanation, it might seem gay to refer to what the 'stange feeling inside' actually is, and obviously, its amorous or ardent feelins'.
the whole experience of these sensations changes ones view of the world completly, and it's so fucking difficult to express these things thats one might as well retire and vow never to write. Thus impliedly this poem is a tribute to aphrodite (the hot hot hot goddess of love). (haha, that was just a complicated, macho way of saying its a love poem.)

The poet who effortlessly can etch everything in the world, fails to portray his emotions- completly, extensivley and comprehensively to his beloved, and thats the main theme of the poem i guess. its hard to express that the whole meaning of life becomes n'sync (no, not the gay boy band, i mean 'in tune') with a hearty glimpse into the eyes of a lover. Everything seems subsidary, and its as if one wears glasses(where an image or a color is drawn on the lens), and everything is just a part of the bigger, more central theme: you only see what filters through your glasses.

Sorry, got carried away, will control myself better next time, lol.

I did though keep another aspect in mind...lol...its intentionally perverted (o cmon u didnt expect a perfectly legitimate piece now did u? moreover from me...). everything is synonomous with a cock (pen, sword, etc), and the poem also speaks of how awesome i am in the art of shagging :D. n' that ain't no lie babe ;)

...Maybe the guy in the poem just needs a dose of viagra to get his 'sword' back again, lol.