| + It never was, the sky... | Romulus Câmpan Maramureșanu [28.May.25 14:46] |
| A poem of intrinsic quality, written with emotional depth, seeing like through a secret, hacked spyglass, what the sky attempts to transform in him, in her. The crow becomes "the hand writing on the wall", chiselling its warning against a sky never worthy of worship. The sky, with all its elements, is a mere usurper, a bowl which should only reflect what his, and her eyes reflect, not from outside, but from the inside. Because our eyes alone are the mirror of the soul, forced to be so often led astray by tantrums of a capricious sky. A bold, concise, epic saga of our right to be luminaires, instead of just empty canvases for mostly the shades from where we wrongly try to look for light. Well earned appreciations, rc-m | |
| = Leeling up | Romulus Câmpan Maramureșanu [28.May.25 14:54] |
| A sincere welcome Amanda, with a poem which brightened my heart. I have raised your level so you could comment without needing to wait for approval. Please contribute further, you have a valuable pen. rc-m | |
| = Thank you, Romulus! | Amanda Spulber [29.May.25 17:35] |
| Thank you for your insightful comment. Indeed, the dark clouds above my city inspired me to write the first two lines. Then it wasn't about the clouds anymore. Thank you for seeing beyond the idol's crust and for making me feel understood. | |