03-30-2015, 11:51 AM 
	
	
	
		in general it has lots of cliche, the red hand being the least of them although it's still a big one. 
There's blood on his hands
If one door closes
Another one opens
The glass is half empty.
My screaming is silent.
The vultures are waiting
He thirsts for more power.
are the others. all they do is weaken poetry, it's true that a cliche can work in a certain piece of poetry but sadly this is not one of them. it seems to be Easter based. though it rambles elsewhere. at present it doesn't have much coherency, it doesn't transition well from one phrase to another. my suggestion would be to try and use original phrases and smooth out the telling of it.
on other sites this would probably be hailed as modern and out there but you're lucky; here we try our best to be honest and fair. stick with it, try and do a few edit in order to knock it into shape. even if it means a complete makeover.
	
	
	
There's blood on his hands
If one door closes
Another one opens
The glass is half empty.
My screaming is silent.
The vultures are waiting
He thirsts for more power.
are the others. all they do is weaken poetry, it's true that a cliche can work in a certain piece of poetry but sadly this is not one of them. it seems to be Easter based. though it rambles elsewhere. at present it doesn't have much coherency, it doesn't transition well from one phrase to another. my suggestion would be to try and use original phrases and smooth out the telling of it.
on other sites this would probably be hailed as modern and out there but you're lucky; here we try our best to be honest and fair. stick with it, try and do a few edit in order to knock it into shape. even if it means a complete makeover.
(03-29-2015, 12:04 PM)Voker101 Wrote: Who slaughtered the lamb?
There's blood on his hands. The Angels done watched him. why two lines here and nowhere else?
They caught him red handed.
With horns on his head
and thorns for a crown
With Death in his bed
and glee on his frown
His conscience is yawning
Guilt by the gallows
The vultures are waiting
to feast on his morals.
He thirsts for more power.
The glass is half empty.
The moon's a fool.
He stole the stars.
He prays for a clean slate
But he gets ravens in reply
He's banned from the Heavens
If one door closes
Another one opens
Enter at Hell's gates.
My screaming is silent.
I hate this asylum.

 

