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#thefallingman
What Hope Remained? What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         When putrid plumes dulled morning into night         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent,         As mortals wept and earthborn angels went         With downcast eyes to clamber heavens height. What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         When panicked sirens wailed a lost lament         And backs were bowed beneath ungodly weight,         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent         As boots bore souls up treadmills burnt and bent         To scale a void devoid of dawning light. What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         For those in sight of angels heaven sent         Atop the world to aid their mortal plight,         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.         When wingless brethren conquered feared ascent         To gift last hope to all who saw their might:                 What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?                 Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent. In The Fall I chanced upon a stranger in the fall, Cosmetic garb of office black and white Portraying calm demeanor of his plight As shadows panicked on a stricken wall, And oft' I find my mind in numb recall To look upon that helpless human kite Who tumbled from the terrors of a height, Yet graceful as an eagle in a stall Before it plummets earthward --   'Neath the pall Of twisted steel rended by follied flight, That stranger lives forever in the light Suspended in iconic timeless sprawl.         I wonder, in the briefness of his fall,         Did he derive the meaning of it all?
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Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 7:20 PM UTC
Villanelle and Sonnet
What Hope Remained? What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         When putrid plumes dulled morning into night         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent,         As mortals wept and earthborn angels went         With downcast eyes to clamber heavens height. What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         When panicked sirens wailed a lost lament         And backs were bowed beneath ungodly weight,         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent         As boots bore souls up treadmills burnt and bent         To scale a void devoid of dawning light. What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         For those in sight of angels heaven sent         Atop the world to aid their mortal plight,         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.         When wingless brethren conquered feared ascent         To gift last hope to all who saw their might:                 What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?                 Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent. In The Fall I chanced upon a stranger in the fall, Cosmetic garb of office black and white Portraying calm demeanor of his plight As shadows panicked on a stricken wall, And oft' I find my mind in numb recall To look upon that helpless human kite Who tumbled from the terrors of a height, Yet graceful as an eagle in a stall Before it plummets earthward --   'Neath the pall Of twisted steel rended by follied flight, That stranger lives forever in the light Suspended in iconic timeless sprawl.         I wonder, in the briefness of his fall,         Did he derive the meaning of it all?
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I could have been The Falling Man. No opinions. No intentions of disrespect. Only a surreal psuedo-pessimist thought. Always felt something inscrutable in that drop. **My reference don't tend a joke. Please don't fuel any sorta controversy.** But can't deny to wonder what the thoughts would be, during that fall. Will the whole spent life flash in front of our eyes? Do we become the kindest, humblest of the few and the worthy human ever lived in that moment? Do we wish for some last miracle? Do we still have ourselves cling to the last scrap of hope of life again? As I am writing this, my tears no more stay tamed inside my eyes, And my heart goes for the massacre lose. Lose of lives. Loss of humanity. Old news, yeah, but still hits the soul. And the fall taunts my thoughts as I too beg for a second chance myself. I shall revive. This is my life. This thought shall universally exist and be reasoned with.
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Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
The Falling Man