Seraph
March 27th, 2017, 05:14 AM
This is a song/poem I wrote a few days ago. My friends say this is a good poem, but I am in need of criticism. This poem has an inner meaning, but I won't tell it so fast. Here it goes:
The road is long the path is dark,
over rock and under tree.
To the sound of wind we hark,
and of streams that never find the sea.
The road is long the path is dark,
till the days come to end.
To the sound of wind we hark,
and of stream that over roads have went.
The mist upon the mountains lay,
in the merry month of May.
The morning fades into the noon,
shining over the flowers of June.
The road is long the path is dark,
at last we come to night of naught.
To the sound of wind we hark,
to find at last the goal we sought.
Evening fades into the night,
the yellow light turns into white,
the stars shine on our heads above,
and weakened is our mortal sight.
The morning fades into the noon,
the sun goes up above our height,
shining on the flowers of June,
to give us courage and unending might.
I walk the path I walk alone,
and far I am a-from my home.
Long have I been strolling ‘bout,
ever since I ventured out.
And since then I have not stopped,
not a-since I left my home
And my might has not yet dropped,
and I walk the road alone.
The road is long the path is dark,
over rock and under tree.
To the sound of wind we hark,
and of streams that never find the sea.
My journey ends in silver glass,
out of time and out of sight,
and so do mortal souls pass,
Into the night into the light.
– Séraph
The road is long the path is dark,
over rock and under tree.
To the sound of wind we hark,
and of streams that never find the sea.
The road is long the path is dark,
till the days come to end.
To the sound of wind we hark,
and of stream that over roads have went.
The mist upon the mountains lay,
in the merry month of May.
The morning fades into the noon,
shining over the flowers of June.
The road is long the path is dark,
at last we come to night of naught.
To the sound of wind we hark,
to find at last the goal we sought.
Evening fades into the night,
the yellow light turns into white,
the stars shine on our heads above,
and weakened is our mortal sight.
The morning fades into the noon,
the sun goes up above our height,
shining on the flowers of June,
to give us courage and unending might.
I walk the path I walk alone,
and far I am a-from my home.
Long have I been strolling ‘bout,
ever since I ventured out.
And since then I have not stopped,
not a-since I left my home
And my might has not yet dropped,
and I walk the road alone.
The road is long the path is dark,
over rock and under tree.
To the sound of wind we hark,
and of streams that never find the sea.
My journey ends in silver glass,
out of time and out of sight,
and so do mortal souls pass,
Into the night into the light.
– Séraph