A Pale Horse
by
Ian R Thorpe
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Not rated by the Author.
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Every now and then I have a "Morrissey" sort of day. Don't know who Morrisey is? Think Leonard Cohen times 50.
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In a dream I saw a rider on a pale horse but still felt no remorse for the things Ive done, and the moonlight shone upon the graveyard picking out black letters on a pale stone. The sky grew lighter as the dawn drew near, revealing the name of one I once held dear who shared my pillow for a joyful year. Slender as a willow, she had blue-black hair, slender as a willow and as pale as death and tender as a blossom on a green stem. Her hips clung like ivy and her sweet breath tasted of berries drenched in warm cream. I knew my cold heart froze the spark within her, the vital spark that wills life to persist. My cold indifference tore the life within her as sure as if my hand had held a cruel knife. Indifference to a love thats truly given is cold as any blade, as cruel as any blow. I found her cold and rigid in the morning, hanging from a willow in the cold rain. In my dream her lifeless eyes accuse me. Beside her is a rider on a Pale Horse. I want to cry and beg for absolution, Retribution would grant a kind of justice All my life those lifeless eyes will haunt me. Each man kills the one he loves the poet said; she filled my world though she came from another, I tried to love her but she was a mystery. Each day I try but can feel no remorse, beside me steps a rider on a pale horse, only through remorse may my love live again. I only see reality within a dream
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| Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader) |
3/9/2007 |
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Good to see a familar bloke back..
Morrisey was the lead singer of the Smiths, saw him a few times, yet he can be depressing, rather like the cure... |
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| Reviewed by Nell Gavin |
3/9/2007 |
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I love this Ian. What bewilders me is how you can draw a comparison to Morrisey...? Lately he sings verse like a child swinging on a swing, singing to himself. It all sounds very stream of consciousness. And he's angry. Lalalala. This is why I don't like you. Lalalala.
This is NOTHING like Morrisey. This is much nicer. |
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| Reviewed by George Carroll |
3/8/2007 |
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| What is done can't be undone. A deep insight into a persons soul. |
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| Reviewed by CJ Heck |
3/8/2007 |
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This amazing poem held me fast to the edge of my seat, Ian. Excellent writing, start to finish.
Love,
CJ |
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| Reviewed by Tinka Boukes |
3/8/2007 |
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Very well written Ian!!
Love Tinka |
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| Reviewed by Bill Grimes Jr. |
3/8/2007 |
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Poignant raw emotion Ian......Well done!
Bill |
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| Reviewed by E. Lucas-Taylor |
3/8/2007 |
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Ian, there is nothing worse than reflecting on old loves. I can't even remember mine, or why. Maybe that's why? Except it does give wonderful verse. Love this.
Elizabeth |
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