Tyrannical Depression

[TheB87]

This is my 1st attempt at poetry of any kind, but please don't sugar coat your criticisms or opinions.

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Tyrannical Depression


The master of his domain. Conquest his oldest friend,with an iron fist he rules. Admired, respected, and feared by all. His every whim satisfied by forces seemingly grater than that of mortal man.
But his nights are sleepless; his demons stem not from fear, uncertainty, or doubt; but from insecurities, needs, and memories. The ghost of his father ever present and judging and the lingering spirit of his downtrodden mother; the only fuel for the fires in his soul. The empty days turn into direction less years and in their place left the hollow shell he calls his life.
And now alone, at the end, many might say that he has done great and mighty things, secured his place in history, left his make on society, but at what cost; true happiness, joy, even love. Who will save him now, Nay, who can save him. A man who is a slave to his own freedom, a victim of his victories, depressed of his own tyranny.

[~Sophia~]

This is my 1st attempt at poetry of any kind, but please don't sugar coat your criticisms or opinions.

Hi B8. This is a very good first poem and because you asked for honest comments, I'd first like to know why you chose to write this as prose? I personally think that is harder to pull off without the help of line breaks for pauses and emphasis.


The master of his domain. You've opened with yup, the dreaded word a "cliche". And ever since Seinfeld, the new meaning of "master of his domain" doesn't have anything to do with the rest of the poem. I hate to say it but, I really thought it was going to be about masturbation. Sorry. :rolleyes:


his demons stem not from fear, uncertainty, or doubt; but from insecurities, needs, and memories. insecurities, uncertainty and doubt are all the same thing. Perhaps you could find different descriptors?


the lingering spirit of his downtrodden mother; the only fuel for the fires in his soul. Kind of trippy on the tongue. Maybe something like the lingering spirit of his downtrodden mother fuels the fires in his soul


direction less typo? I think you meant directionless.


left his make on society, , did you mean left his mark on society?


depressed of his own tyranny. I don't think you can be depressed of something. I think you are depressed by something.

All in all, a great first effort and I hope to see a lot more!!:thumbs_up

[TheB87]

thanks sophia i'll try to post a rewrite tomorrow