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Over the Edge

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Below is the poem entitled Over the Edge which was written by poet elizabeth wesley. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Over the Edge

These men whose empty eyes are bright
As vacant windows set in stone;
Sift through the echoes of black night
When fog and wind speak silence alone.

On forsaken paths and in empty halls
One can see them deformed and hollow;
Like wild shapes that climb prison walls
They hold the vision they could not follow.

Open the door softly, the faceless form
Weaves strands of life into a dream;
When the sun shines through his storm
Little men journey through what had been.

An old bent man whispers to the door
With the smell of death from the grave;
To lift the silence and hear the roar
Of voices of those they could not save.

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  1. Date: 8/22/2012 10:18:00 AM
    another visit

  1. Date: 3/22/2012 10:30:00 AM
    this is a very vivid picture of a kind of hell to me.

  1. Date: 11/9/2011 12:58:00 PM
    A meloncholy write with such truthfull lines Lizzie.. worth the words indeed.

  1. Date: 11/9/2011 11:03:00 AM
    A power packed write Elizabeth ! Wow, so descriptive dear poet, lucid indeed ! Have a good one....much love, james

  1. Date: 11/8/2011 10:31:00 AM
    Very hard truth which happens in reality of life generally where from no one can escape. Thanks for sharing, my friend. bl

  1. Date: 11/7/2011 3:00:00 PM
    Your line of sight is straight and true. With heartfelt sadness that leaves me blue. The desperate lives in shadowed dives. Who spend their days without their wives. Await the day when death invites them. And all that's left is a single stem. Sadness has it's day. What can we say. You take it easy Elizabeth, and so wil I.

  1. Date: 11/7/2011 12:43:00 PM
    this is layereed piece subject to interpreations, lizzy... love the cryptic yet claasy style of this write.. very powerful images about men in the brink of depair.. superb all the way :) hugggs

  1. Date: 11/7/2011 9:03:00 AM
    wonderful work..Thanks for dropping by my place and commenting. You're right, I did have many pieces on here, but decided one day to wipe them out.. I have lost my creative flow as of late...TAH

  1. Date: 11/7/2011 8:02:00 AM
    You are the master of rhymes, Elize. And the queen of poetry. Luv, Hussain

  1. Date: 11/7/2011 6:50:00 AM
    A deep write from you Elizabeth.Enjoyed.

  1. Date: 11/7/2011 6:43:00 AM

  1. Date: 11/6/2011 9:31:00 PM

  1. Date: 11/6/2011 6:40:00 PM
    something very haunting about these quatrains that keeps the reader there long after it is read, Elizabeth or at least it does me......

  1. Date: 11/6/2011 6:00:00 PM
    Great work..Enjoyed reading this eve..Thanks for stopping by, reading, and inquiring What are Grits?..GRITS..Girls Raised In The South or a food that is served mostly at breakfast..It is ground corn about the consistency of coarse sand which is cooked about twenty minutes..One can add butter, or milk, or cheese..I usually add salt and black pepper as seasonings and cheese..This morning I added Red-Eyed Gravy to mine..Sara

  1. Date: 11/6/2011 4:54:00 PM
    so deep and strong,,,,i see your vision and it is dream,,,,as words mean everything.................

  1. Date: 11/6/2011 3:20:00 PM
    a profoun write indeed, echoes of sadness, and dreams not taken. always a pleasure to read. steven

  1. Date: 11/6/2011 3:18:00 PM
    * Ps. * “In Answer Unto Your Perfect Beauties Question * My Dear Sweet Beautiful Elizabeth * Within A Glass of Strawberry Wine * Swaying Candlelight * Perfumed Pillows * Soft Silk Sheets * My Luv, Always * Sarah.” *

  1. Date: 11/6/2011 3:02:00 PM
    Wow! This poem is beautifully composed with a profound heartfelt message to it. A poignant and heartfelt read with awesome imagery. You have so much talent. Many thx for sharing!

  1. Date: 11/6/2011 12:39:00 PM
    :-) And thats all I have to say.

  1. Date: 11/6/2011 10:20:00 AM
    * “The Beautiful Poetic Queen of Rhyme * My Dear Sweet Beautiful Elizabeth * What Vision Do These Men Lack * To Face The Crippling of Times Empty Visions * Surely Futile Becomes Their Mark * Not I, Within These Maidens That I Love * Pierce This Night to Slice The Veils * Very Beautiful Poem * By A Very Beautiful & Gifted Woman * My Luv, Always * Sarah.” *