The Child Is Dead

by Sourav   Oct 30, 2007


The child is long dead
And someone has taken his place
Using his name to progress
Lies the body on life's sardonic bed

Though there's a fight within me
Sometimes the child tries to come out of the grave
He doesn't want to be a dead man's slave
But he needs to die; needs to die desperately

The fresh air of innocence is gone
Love for the truth; that burning fire
Life becomes so narrow; mind's like mire
Agitated nights and broken torrid dawns

But, hope the child will born again
With his condor & all his graciousness
He'll be back from death's vicious wilderness
And once again life will be pure & I'll be sane

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  • 10 years ago

    by Goth marionette

    But, hope the child will born again
    With his condor & all his graciousness
    He'll be back from death's vicious wilderness
    And once again life will be pure & I'll be sane

    This stanza really rocks...I liked it the most...
    The whole subject of the poem is perfectly expressed...
    Keep up the good work5/5..

  • 10 years ago

    by Synyster

    Everyone has an inner child that becomes further trapped as age and experience build. The more tainted the person, the faster that child inside dies. It's sad to see that so many people seemingly willingly kill that inner child.

    "Sometimes the child tries to come out of the grave
    He doesn't want to be a dead man's slave
    But he needs to die; needs to die desperately"

    I liked that stanza a lot. It holds a lot of imagery and power. The child wants to be free to come out and play, but its suppressed and smothered.

    God... such a depressing poem, but it's so good.

    Keep up the awesome work.

  • 10 years ago

    by rich sanchez

    Well done very deep and detailed writing good job keep up the good work! 5/5

  • 10 years ago

    by Nee

    Amazing :)))
    I loved it..esp the last line
    deserves a five rate !!!
    keep it up =)

  • 10 years ago

    by Bare My Paradox

    The fresh air of innocence is gone
    Love for the truth; that burning fire
    Life becomes so narrow; mind's like mire
    Agitated nights and broken torrid dawns

    ^^^
    Love these lines...

    There is a child within everyone that gradually dies, maybe with age, maybe with experiences. As soon as that child is exploited to the harsh venoms of the cozening and cunning world-the innocence demises and the blissful state of obliviousness shatters and mutates.

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