Catamite
01-26-2012, 10:06 AM
I am writing a sort of Odyssesy type epic for fun and I though I'd post some to get feedback. This is sort of in the middle.
In a grey of rot the clouds are smudged against a sky
The white of dirt - and this, still yet not midday
Green over blue wrenched the unceasing waves
Their risings curtailed ever slower, at growing heights
The air stiff with the smell of the sea exhumed
A break of the sun through cloud did not loom
Far away, there seemed only one solid place in sight
We drew nearer in desperate flight, sloping upon waters
As crashed wave born thence from wave in tyrannical force
'Let us if in the final moments, love eachother and seek
Atonement for all that we sinned!'
This cried one man weak in fear --- he was struck
And thus silenced but we truly were all affected
Through we tried to not let it appear.
.....
We tossed childlike almost to death
'Let us by own hands end our breath!'
This cried the same man cowardly in fear
Him, in an instant that I could not plan
I shagged with my knife through the throat
And let crumple onto reddened deck
With fleeting balance that upon the deed done I lost,
But cried still, 'Who else craves their end?'
To which with silence from all I was met.
As our pummeled ship began to crack, with two men to the sea
Already lost, I prayed in mad hope for a miracle when
All of a sudden the sky would clear and the crashing cease
As the winds were calmed, for all to be sober by some chance.
Alas! there was no such fate, but as cried a man, maybe escape
Instead: as gleeming through the mist
The rocks seen before now jutted out wide and flat invitingly
It seemed our boat -thank God!- could not miss;
Men now began harder to empty the deck of water
-A Sisyphean task which kept their minds sane -
The waters had slowed only slighty, I cried for all to take some hold
As mercilessy the boat was flung into the shore
-As would a child discard a toy-
Of what with time would be revealed to be an isle.
In a grey of rot the clouds are smudged against a sky
The white of dirt - and this, still yet not midday
Green over blue wrenched the unceasing waves
Their risings curtailed ever slower, at growing heights
The air stiff with the smell of the sea exhumed
A break of the sun through cloud did not loom
Far away, there seemed only one solid place in sight
We drew nearer in desperate flight, sloping upon waters
As crashed wave born thence from wave in tyrannical force
'Let us if in the final moments, love eachother and seek
Atonement for all that we sinned!'
This cried one man weak in fear --- he was struck
And thus silenced but we truly were all affected
Through we tried to not let it appear.
.....
We tossed childlike almost to death
'Let us by own hands end our breath!'
This cried the same man cowardly in fear
Him, in an instant that I could not plan
I shagged with my knife through the throat
And let crumple onto reddened deck
With fleeting balance that upon the deed done I lost,
But cried still, 'Who else craves their end?'
To which with silence from all I was met.
As our pummeled ship began to crack, with two men to the sea
Already lost, I prayed in mad hope for a miracle when
All of a sudden the sky would clear and the crashing cease
As the winds were calmed, for all to be sober by some chance.
Alas! there was no such fate, but as cried a man, maybe escape
Instead: as gleeming through the mist
The rocks seen before now jutted out wide and flat invitingly
It seemed our boat -thank God!- could not miss;
Men now began harder to empty the deck of water
-A Sisyphean task which kept their minds sane -
The waters had slowed only slighty, I cried for all to take some hold
As mercilessy the boat was flung into the shore
-As would a child discard a toy-
Of what with time would be revealed to be an isle.