Oh! Balm of Sorrow, thy soft caress reproaches my blank and hollow
aspect.
Disregard my only response, a folly to those who witness my continence.
For darkness has encompassed my universe and hidden all that
rewarded life.
I am the vessel overflowing with misery, which splashes upon
empty remains.
Cold!
Cold!
Cold!
My once joyous spirit is now corrupt and meaningless.
I am a shell, hollow, and devoid of contentment.
Life shall persist but with little desire, for my dream is
dead.
Consumed in the unrelenting fires of technological achievement.
Written by Mark R. Day on 2/4/14. Copyright by Mark R. Day 2/7/14 all rights reserved.
"initially done as an experiment to see if, I could write in the Romantic Style of Keats. This work is my attempt to speak toward the the forlorn spirit of a man who has seen his way of life overwhelmed by the steady progress of human industry. The man has been left behind in a rapidly changing world and nothing remains of the life he once lived. Despair is the outcome as even his dream [hopes] have been taken from him."
Consumed in the unrelenting fires of technological achievement.
Written by Mark R. Day on 2/4/14. Copyright by Mark R. Day 2/7/14 all rights reserved.
"initially done as an experiment to see if, I could write in the Romantic Style of Keats. This work is my attempt to speak toward the the forlorn spirit of a man who has seen his way of life overwhelmed by the steady progress of human industry. The man has been left behind in a rapidly changing world and nothing remains of the life he once lived. Despair is the outcome as even his dream [hopes] have been taken from him."
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