#1
So yeah I have posted this before. But I am trying to recapture my style I had some 2 years ago. This is re-worked and hopefully some of the underlying themes are more apparent now.

"The Bells - The Bells...Oh silence the Belles!"

A cross upon a spire silhouettes against the street,
baring the weight of the sky and the soul of a faithless dupe,
brought here to land upon his knees,
shadowed deep along her aisle, dancing;
- enlivened it seems -
dappled in the dull candle-light.
His intertwining fingers tiptoe,
toward her effete pulpit,
Each intake of breath rattles damp rafters;
- tumultuous and tumescent -
and every whispered expulsion withers furthermore
her Decadent veils; succinctly draped…
Finally he speaks; "Oh sweet Desdemona, what have I done?"

Set in the midst of mist,
mutually covorting with dawn,
her single rippling tide of church bells swathe across town,
inciting songbirds in slumber,
into a chorus of sound above a dead courtyard;
once renowned
- now steeped with infamy -
a tributary runs;
carmine in colour, to her very doors,
infiltrating her barricades
and seeping obstinately
around the inclement stonework,
where written with fingertips reads;
"Love is faith and mine was lost!"

When at last the town is razed and the silhouettes
despond to the shadows, his voice, again,
is heard…
"What is this tragedy that lies at the doors of St. Desdaemona?"
Filth, pure filth... That's what you are.
Last edited by The Hurt Within at Jun 23, 2007,
#2
The Bells - The Bells...Oh silence the Belles!

A cross upon a spire silhouettes against the street,
baring the weight of the sky and the soul of a faithless dupe,
brought here to land upon his knees,
shadowed deep along her aisle, dancing;
Can't really get into it

- enlivened it seems -
dappled in the dull candle-light.
His intertwining fingers tiptoe,
toward her effete pulpit,
Each intake of breath rattles damp rafters;
Gets better here. Great wording

- tumultuous and tumescent -
and every whispered expulsion withers furthermore
her Decadent veils; succinctly draped…
Finally he speaks; "Oh sweet Desdemona, what have I done?"
I like that you put speech here

Set in the midst of mist,
mutually covorting with dawn,
her single rippling tide of church bells swathe across town,
inciting songbirds in slumber,
into a chorus of sound above a dead courtyard;
once renowned
I like how this paints a picture

- now steeped with infamy -
a tributary runs;
carmine in colour, to her very doors,
infiltrating her barricades
and seeping obstinately
around the inclement stonework,
where written with fingertips reads;
"Love is faith and mine was lost!"
That really shows how the character feels which IMO is good


When at last the town is razed and the silhouettes
despond to the shadows, his voice, again,
is heard…
"What is this tragedy that lies at the doors of St. Desdaemona?"

Again, I like the use of speech and the fact that it paints a good picture.

Great piece, I could imagine the whole thing.
#3
It's good, I just couldn't completely connect to it. I loved the imagery and the description though. Especially the last line of the first verse. I think that one line really captures the whole piece.

Crit mine?
https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=612788
Can't say I was never wrong
But some blame rests on you


Work and play they're never okay
To mix the way we do