New reply from Susan Katz
<p>Thank you for sharing this very dark and very intricate poem with me. I do love many of your lines and the way the poem takes us, with you, on a journey. "My heart couldn't bear the thirst anymore" is, for example, a great line! I do think the poem wanders a bit, taking us places that confuse us. In other words, as with all poetry, I believe your poem would benefit from editing – finding where the poem, the message, lives and bringing that home to us without adding anything that is unnecessary to that theme. You have talent and are a good story teller, as well. I would be happy to see this poem again, after you've had a chance to revisit it and revise it, with the eye and the heart of the poet. Your friend in poetry, Susan</p>
https://poetladykatz.com/poetry-talk/pitch-black
Original Post by diyatesla
Pitch Black
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><strong>Pitch Black</strong></span></em></p>
<p>Widened my eyes into the black</p>
<p>On the cold floor, lay me perplexed</p>
<p>Endless darkness aloft</p>
<p>Icy fire through my spine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I shut it, the curtains of light</p>
<p>Slowly inhaled and eased my skin</p>
<p>Opened again and I saw it,</p>
<p>The big black box, where I lie.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pushed my hands, on the cold floor</p>
<p>Rose above, my chilling spine</p>
<p>Couldn't believe the magnanimity I saw </p>
<p>An elegant engraved black metal door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>My feet got colder with each step I took</p>
<p>My hands weighing me down like a thousand gravity</p>
<p>My heart couldn't bear the thirst anymore</p>
<p>To turn that golden knob and into the wilderness</p>
<p>Or grotesque, who knows.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Another black box, a loftier one</p>
<p>I turned around, the door slammed back</p>
<p>Shuddered, I saw it another metal door</p>
<p>A sinister one, a mile ahead</p>
<p>I picked my pace but no longer did it move</p>
<p>Still as air, I stood and watched</p>
<p>Everything, just a trance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If only I resisted my frivolous urge, just so</p>
<p>My legs'd have the freedom it deserved</p>
<p>But now I stand in this Pitch Black</p>
<p>Nowhere to go, seamlessly lost.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ma'm, </p>
<p>I'd be delighted if you would comment on this poem. I wrote it a day ago and wanted to know your opinion about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thanking you, </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Diya.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>