The Hallow's Call

Clockworkwise
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The Hallow's Call

Upon this pale wasteland of dread
We roam, no warmth to be found
On the leafless tree, the wind gently swings the dead
Solemn, we hear the hempen sound
 
Soft breeze plays quiescent
The deceased's woeful instrument
 
With the haunting creaks of the gallows pole
The hanged men slowly fare, in lifeless gray air
With the final fall they paid the toll
Those forlorn riders of the three-legged mare
 
"We kicked the wind with the last swing
For us no one will sing"
 
Their distant eyes gaze at the ground so hollow
Gaunt bodies bent as the weeping willow
Among rags and dregs of blood, down in the bottom
Blossom the crimson flowers of autumn
 
"Still you hear my voice
See me by your side
But remember how I cried
As I saw the fair dawn bride
 
You, alone and shivering with cold
Carry on friend of old
And walk past this wretched scaffold
Now I'm far away, a flock of ravens devour my face
Remember that I left this forsaken place"
 
I walk on, waking cracks of rime
Reviving the misty dawn's chime
 
Dreamy memories fade under the early morning light
 
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Clockworkwise Clockworkwise
submitted on 9 Maggio 2025 - 21:22
Give a shoutout to Clockworkwise

Commenti 2

Lau_ Lau_
11 Maggio 2025, 15:19

it makes me wonder what is it about?

Clockworkwise Clockworkwise A
12 Maggio 2025, 17:16

Hello, It truly gladdens me to know that this poem made you wonder. The vision I held while writing was of a desolate, barren landscape where two people perhaps wandering or fleeing from something unseen, come across a gallows. There, decaying corpses hang and sway in the wind, creating a macabre scene. Initially, these dead men seem to speak to the travelers, adding to the unsettling atmosphere.

Then, the figure accompanying the narrator reminds them of their own death, revealing that the narrator is now alone. This companion, who had been present throughout the journey, has passed away and was left behind at an earlier point. The narrator, we realize, has been journeying with a hallucination of their friend – a phantom conjured by grief or trauma.

The poem concludes with a deliberate ambiguity. Was the narrator's experience a descent into a harsh reality, a literal encounter with the gallows and the lingering presence of the dead? Or was it all dream?

This vision I've described is the core idea that guided my writing, and as a result, this is my personal interpretation of the poem. I hope it offers a clearer understanding for you now. However, if you have a different reading that resonates more deeply with you, I wholeheartedly respect that and would love to hear it. My intention is not to confine the poem within rigid boundaries, as I believe the beauty and essence of art are best experienced and shared through individual feeling and interpretation.

"There they hung loose
Bound by the morbid noose"

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