Would you c/c this poem about past and future?

Excellent!

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[Airy you were]

Airy you were in my dream, I felt you;

you had a bluish ribbon to twine,

my souls' ocean drops in cold truth,

the stars above ironically to shine;

.......................

I beckon; winds wave in worlds lost;

my glance to fair trails in home field,

a chorus of lost Angels foremost,

singing a monody of my soul's grief.

So there she talks. From far beyond,

the depths of glassy domes, of stars,

wishing - coins thrown in a pond,

a fantasy dreamer I am, behind bars.

Oceanic tall waves and yielding points,

- teary depths prohibited, I sail to only

caliginous, danger links and moist

foam on lips as my Siren smiles lonely

from a darker faraway to care softly,

so as to touch my lips, singing a note,

a poem for my lone death to ghostly,

of irreversible Hades links that float.

.......................

Our steadfast sails to horizons gray,

the years we passed will there shine,

your low voice in the wind will betray

my soul's Siren song and end my twine..

Macabre view of an absence in life. I sense the craving for affection, and the rebuff from another. I see the coldness of lonesomeness merged with the probity of love. A relationship between a woman and her issues as sharp as knife. I give it a 7/10 Get rid of millena and eon. Change did we ever dance, to did we ever move without. Lack clarity, too many pronouns not enough names.

i like this and grow to be taking it in 2 distinctive guidelines. One being bear in mind after dying, which this would possibly not recommend in any respect. at the instant I watched a action picture, "the beautiful Bones" a properly dealt with action picture on a terrible concern with a twist on the tip. This grow to be properly dealt with candies and a passionate examine.

childhood was rather stolen from me

or did I, give it up quite voluntarily?

it seems I asked if maybe I could do these things

and then one day

the job was mine

siblings hunger, siblings fight... and yes

that knife was in her hand

it never touched my pale white skin

as I ran out and hid that night,

my sister gave me quite a fright...

and your poem, I read again to try and make some sense in mine

my mind so tired and worn tonight, I simply do not have much fight

so I will let this much suffice

that to my eyes

it looked quite nice ... and tomorrow when I wake perhaps

poetry wont be so

gauche

I am a child again for the first time? or is it the fortieth

>>>???

Such sad poem..it sounds great! Don't know any way to say it but it truly genuinely sounds great and flows so smoothly and delicately