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View Full Version : Becoming Pure.


2007
2008-10-25, 06:11
An angel who's wings have yet to sprout.
Phantom limb syndrome.

Although in doubt,
His will devout,
Shall carry him,
With faith about,
Shall be his wings.

He shall glide,
A saviour's crown,
The heavens nigh,
To journey to the gates;
A dreamers high.

We pray for angels.

We chant for devils to leave.

Please chant to yourself,
God won't hear your plea.

Malkog
2008-10-25, 08:30
An angel who's wings have yet to sprout.
Phantom limb syndrome.

Although in doubt,
His will devout,
Shall carry him,
With faith about,
Shall be his wings.


I think you overused the -out rhyme here. It distracted me from what you were saying. The two lines at the end of the quote confuse me. It doesn't seem to make sense. There's a lot of repetition of the same/similar words there too.

He shall glide,
A saviour's crown,
The heavens nigh,
To journey to the gates;
A dreamers high.


I think the third comma should be a period, because it and the next line don't seem to make sense when you put them together. Furthermore, I'm not sure if this stanza adds anything to your poem. Maybe it could be condensed to express what you want to say in a better way.

We pray for angels.

We chant for devils to leave.

Please chant to yourself,
God won't hear your plea.

Cool. It definitely finishes strongly. I like the ending.

bornkiller
2008-10-26, 01:14
God won't hear your plea.
Now thats the shit I can relate to.