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Shadow Mirrors (by: eddy styx)

shadow mirrors
in my tortured mind,
reflecting not
what I hope to find

a broken frame of
shattered glass
mysterious picture
from days long passed

photograph faded
on yellowed curling page
a face long lost to time
a face frozen consumed by rage.

All this long time
an eon spent
in shadow mirrors
a soul is bent.

In shadow mirrors
my soul lays rent...

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Structured: Western
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Comments

Well done, Eddy! This gave me chills! I Invision flashbacks from your past ..holding like old photographs. Your soul stays frozen in those snapshots and holds all the anger and pain the memories carry. I love it!

~RoseBlack~

of all the poets here, i think you are the one who would know of what I speak. thank you. i appreciate you and your knowledge.

*ever, eddy
*hugs, Cat

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Soul is held captive in flashbacks and regrets. There is a light at the end of the tunnel tho.. it is just a marathon getting there.

~RoseBlack~

I know exactly what you mean...keep on truckin'

*ever, eddy
*hugs, Cat

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in shadow mirrors! Hi eddy, yeah, the shadowed mirrors hold us and our rage. Old pictures found and gazed upon, don't help
to alleviate the anger, but actually keep it frozen ready for use. Nice job, eddy. ~ Killer.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

how are you doing? glad to see you getting out and about!

*ever, eddy

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This is freaking amazing. Totally refined to perfection. I mean, the thing reads itself really

Tim

thanks for dropping by and reading! I'm glad that you liked it!

*ever, eddy

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author comment

Looking at the past often brings back pain while at the same time assists us in bringing about change

right on the money, Clentin!

*ever eddy styx

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In the shadow mirrors the past reflects back forever tormenting with visions of long-ago horrors, and the abuse does make us who we become because of it, the anger and hate from it all eats up and turns your contour and focuses it to darkness, the road to a reflection free of those ghosts is a million miles long taking one step, to only to be driven back ten by remembrance.

I see a soul at the end rent in two one a blazing burning white the other a darker shade of black. that's what I got from your poem.

I had to walk away for a few minutes after I read this, I felt two very different things and I am sure you know what those two things were.

This is an outstanding piece of poetry, writing out of the pain does not lessen you but it in fact strengthens you. Imo.

love always Lilbit xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

I looked in that mirror most of my life. I broke the stupid thing.

Tim

I rarely do, in all seriousness.

Jayne

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

*sigh...I wish I could help but I am lost to the cacophony of my own shadows, rendered invalid and unfit...

*ever, eddy

*hugs, Cat

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author comment

I had hoped you would not understand so deeply. for I wish you a charmed life... I tend to forget your past pains, they have earned my rage and I want to eradicate those who have caused you this agony!

*eddy styx

*hugs, Siscat

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I could see it it was so vivid. But that's also on account on the brilliance of the poem. I am a survivor. I will always be here though as witness.

Fear not one day I'm going to let loose. When I do the fallout will be epic. It's been bottling up.

Love you always Lilbit.

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

I do know what you speak of, rest easy on it.

* ever, eddy
* love, Siscat

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