poetry critical

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this is what i pray for.

i have existed merely,
quietly for hope.
so easily have i given up to the things that i can see,
forgotten what is only to be heard,
lost on the peak of the wind,
simple screaming
and only just now did i realize that the incessant noise
was born in these, my own lungs,
air that i have converted into sound.
what for?
for hope? or for salvation,
one realization to save me from uncertainty
and pitch me into a beautiful,
honest currant,
that should i have a choice
would drag me to the bottom of this life
and drown me in the depths of my own love.

2 Feb 11

(define the words in this poem)
(69 more poems by this author)

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in the depths of my own love......
aahh, the water is deep I suspect. I very much am drawn to this poem, and find it a smooth read although I read #6 as simply screaming and had to re-read...no matter..
 — blackibird