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This Old Music


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Oh my Santa Maria falling trough ocean strings

Happy avoiding faith trough the descent they sing.

No, her abyss cannot discover this land of innocents

Lost now decayed in the melodic hugs and laments

Of a wave my forever dissonant stream

Now make part of the daily confusion and love.

Laying on a bedrock of my soul aria

This coral of sadness now claim my Santa Maria.

Dressing her with the depression of the growth

The home of the dead whales sings despair in dysphoria.

Hunting ground for the camouflaged normality I dread,

She claim many hundreds with theathed mondainity

Leaving morcels, here, of me

This portrait, the volcano of my exploding walls :

The ashes of an old song

A child once discovered on a rock

Now cried in my head so sick

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Guest Jennifer T

Soliloque, very nice! As English is not your primary language, I've taken the liberty to try and add a little clarity (with minor changes) to what I think you might mean. Please forgive me if I messed any thing up. But here is how I interpreted your poem:

"Oh my Santa Maria, falling through ocean strings

Happily avoiding faith through the descent they sing.

No, her abyss cannot divulge this land of innocents

Lost; now decayed in the melodic hugs and laments

Of a wave - my forever dissonant stream

Now becomes part of the daily confusion and love.

Lying on a bedrock of my soul's aria

This coral of sadness now claims my Santa Maria.

Dressing her with the depression of growth,

The home of the dead whales sings dysphoric despair;

Hunting ground for the camouflaged normality I dread,

She claims hundreds with teathed mundanity

Leaving morcels, here, of me

This portrait, the volcanic eruption of exploding walls;

The ashes of an old song.

A child once discovered on a rock

Now weakly cries within my head."

Again, I love the imagery; the portrait painted by a maelstrom of feelings in words!

Nicely done!

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