"dead zone"

[goldenrod]

DEAD ZONE

I live...exist, isolated,
in a dead zone.
Where nothing penetrates.
Not even a single wisp of odor
from her favourite perfume;
the low vibrations of her voice;
a clattering disharmony
of cooking pots,
denoting an evening meal
in preparation.

It is the dead zone of my despair
and prolonged mourning...


goldenrod.

[goldenrod]

"dead...like me"

Sparrow,
a bundle of wet feathers,
limp, on yellowed grass.
Dead...like me.
But, I am only dead inside.
So, I guess, it can't be

Dead...like me!

goldenrod.

[PrinceMyshkin]

My God, chum! Is it a full moon? That reference to a "favourite perfume" in the first of these hints at a long but oughtn't there to be something to hint at the origin of the alienation?

[firefangled]

Both of these thoroughly capture their subject as if you have physically shared your heart. Not a word to add, not a word to take away.

[goldenrod]

(PrinceMyshkin)

The alienation, if it can be called that, is death, and the difficulty of its acceptance.

goldenrod.

[goldenrod]

(firefangled)

Words to encourage an already swollen ego! More! More! ;)

goldenrod.