Sipping the Jin of Truth
I feel as though,
every word you speak,
is a thought of my own.
A sense of familiarity,
in eyes that are not mine.
Let it be real. Let it be kind.
Let it be, this one last time.
My voice is quiet,
as I repeat these in my mind.
I am not elsewhere,
but the most present in time.
I do not hope,
as I only feel.
The impeding doom,
For what is beautifully real.
A mind of my own& a heart of steel.
Easily opened,
by making one deal.
To recognize oneself,
in another.
Yet still so different,
from each other.
The prayer I never knew or spoke,
Is answered by Truth.
and so let it be told.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
▾ This Poem's Voice
Your Poem's Voice
Blends personal experience (connection with another) with abstract philosophical inquiry into identity.
Multiple compressed ideas: familiarity, presence, duality of self/other, spiritual revelation densely packed.
Mixed: hopeful prayer-like quality balanced by impending doom and melancholy uncertainty.
Quiet introspective voice with moments of intensity; meditative rather than explosive throughout.
Approximately 21 lines; falls in 16-30 line range.
Strong use of metaphor (heart of steel, thoughts as shared), simile, personification of doom.
Pure lyric internal monologue; introspective first-person voice with no narrative or dramatic elements.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.