deepundergroundpoetry.com
Intolerance
An obliterated sight, what a brilliant bit of spite. Holding on tight, encompassed by rings of bitter temptations. Diseased with instructions to ones own demise, I'll have the world see no more, than this mere wretched disguise. Festering before the great, I slump, left approached by this peril. Self manifestation can never work, for you are the true art of self worth. Vague understanding of an all knowing might, does it lie in one ones power to acquit this fright.
Published 29th Jun 2010
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29th Jun 2010 5:43pm
meant to post this here the first time and not in the self section, since i don't know how to remove a post i just submitted it again.....
Anonymous
30th Jun 2010 3:33am
Just click "edit" and then click "delete." Great poem, by the way. :]
30th Jun 2010 5:23pm
3rd Jul 2010 7:52pm
u know u remind me of me LOL...only your more eloquent and better versed...but still...
Beautiful ending. I interpret this as the fear of what is beyond this life if one goes through with their dreams of suicide. The word "spite" makes me think of suicide as an act of revenge on those who have driven one to it. But the fear of something greater, something omniscient who matters more than what seems like petty acts. Not being able to face something so pure because one feels like a disgrace, "festering." This line: "Self manifestation can never work, for you are the true art of self worth." actually confused me with the rest of the poem. Can't really say why, I just couldn't interpret it. Very relatable poem.
