A beautiful descriptive piece placing the reader alongside you.
Showing emotions most have experienced but dismissed with the rising
sun of a new day..
A few queries about which you can put me straight,
`Hear images' `See songs' Would it not be better to
see images and hear songs.
"and I let them carry my soul away, lead me gently into another
How about; leading me gently or to lead me gently
You start by talking of "the long awaited darkness falling"
and later on talk of the "darkness of the day" I understand your
meaning but I had to pause to translate darkness of the day to read
as darkness of the night.
Finally: "the whole world is a prison one could never escape
This may sound better as "from which one could never escape"
It is so easy to tell a writer we like their material but it is far
more useful and encouraging to point out small possible errors if
only to let them know we have read and savoured the complete work.
I like your style.
--- In firstname.lastname@example.org
, Sorana Salomeia
> MEDITATION ON A RAINY DAY
> The long awaited darkness falls casting grey shadows on the walls
of this gloomy and weary room And I am sitting here, alone, near the
fireplace, in the twilight hour, watching the joyful dance of the red
flames of the fire and the dying embers fading and warming up my face.
> In this peaceful solitude my mind is like an open window. I can
hear images and see songs that no poet has ever painted. So
> Half awake and half in dreams, I can hear voices
calling out to me, calling straight to my heart, urging me
them carry my soul away, lead me gently into another world where the
brilliance of beauty will defeat the darkness of the day. These
wistful sounds awake me from my shallow sleep, sweetly seduce me and
I let them take me, play games within my mind.
> Now I find myself in the middle of an ancient valley. I
can see the dry, pale-colored autumn leaves falling to the ground and
rustling down the alley.
> The air gets cold and I hear the high, chilly winds
blow through the trees. The rain falls softly on my face and I watch
the black clouds in the sky thronging as if fighting one against the
> The whole world seems to be touched with mortality.
Life seems to be a blown-out candle. Still, there is no pain, no
suffering, not a sigh, just some kind of melancholy feeling. Nature's
soul is enchained by its own sorrow. Life is a discouraged bird of
passage moving its wings faintly, flying instinctively and aimlessly.
> The icy kisses of the rain drops touch the dead leaves
on the ground and make them glitter, in spite of their rusty colors.
> Hundreds of souls seem to be dancing in the moonlight,
trying to defeat the depression of the darkness.
> The rustle of the leaves changes into an odd,
incomprehensible song; their millions of voices blend into a single
voice. The air is vibrant and there is a constant, steady rhythm of a
heart that beats
> The whole world is a prison one could never escape
from. Looking into the shadows, I have the feeling I'm forever
trapped in here.
> The sounds are growing louder, building fright shudders
into my heart.
> I'm waiting numb and frozen for the sunrise.
> I'm caught in the landscape of emotion and feel the
warmth of all devotions.
> Is it a dream or is it all real ?
> I wonder: Could it all be just an illusion? Are they
all just illusive feelings?
> - Sorana -
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