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I Am No Orpheus

Updated on December 1, 2015
Mihnea Andreescu profile image

Mihnea-Andrei Andreescu is a Romanian Symbolist/Avant-Garde poet and author of "Of Ecstasy and Sorrow".

I watch over thy lightless eyes,

As thick mist's brooding inside.

I wonder where you are now...


I stretch my hand to reach thine,

Now beryl-blue and stiff

I wish to 'brace you one more time

Before this earth you leave...

We would dance together

And jointly we would laugh,

The pitch of graceful measures

Would shut the jaws of Death.

But I'm no Orpheus,

I'm aghast and weak

I writhe in desperation,

Thy dulcet voice I seek...



5 out of 5 stars from 2 ratings of this poem

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    • Mihnea Andreescu profile image
      Author

      Mihnea-Andrei Andreescu 2 years ago from Tilburg

      Thank you.I do my best to continue writing and to reply but at this moment my computer is under repair.I write from an internet cafe.Thank you so much for your encouragement.When I write these poems I identify with the characters I create even though I have not lived all these emotions I try to become the character,I think that is the most important thing in poetry.

    • Matt Easterbrook5 profile image

      Matthew A Easterbrook 2 years ago from Oregon

      It is true we all wonder about how our loved one's are doing that have faced death. I think we all do ponder about if they are in a better place. Yes, we our loved one's die it is hard, we grieve, can come down with depression, but we must take life one day at a time and continue the march of life. We are survivors and we will live to carry on their memories and good work. Great poem with so much meaning Mihnea. Keep letting it flow and write with your heart and true passion that you so naturally have as a poet.

    • MsDora profile image

      Dora Weithers 2 years ago from The Caribbean

      "To kill Death." Now, there's a thought. The intense feeling in your poem cannot be missed. Beautiful!

    • Larry Rankin profile image

      Larry Rankin 2 years ago from Oklahoma

      Your narrator is halted by indecision and perched on the cusp of oblivion.

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