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The Mountaintop (poem) (complete)

Amidala Skywalker

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Yep, I, Ami, actually wrote some poetry that wasn't given to me as a challenge. Be amazed. This never happens. And it's because I am an awful poet. So this is very free-form...actually it's less poetry and more creative prose of some sort.


But I'm posting it anyway. It actually reveals a lot about me, and I hope that maybe some of you can relate.





Everything is quiet.

The featureless ocean blue sky

Stretches endlessly overhead

Passing into black eternity and yet

Caressing the white-dusted mountains

Like a mother cradling her child.


The wind blows and I imagine

My hair streaming out behind me

As I stand on this lonely precipice.

The air is crisp and impossibly fresh

I feel as if I'm the first to ever breathe it.


My soul shouts and sings praises

But my voice is quiet. My eyes are wide

As if they know this beauty cannot last forever.

Soon I must return down this mountain

Back to the cares and worries of life.


I crave this solitude.

There is nothing here but my and my Maker

And I know in my heart that this view is for me

A precious gift from my Lover

And so I drink it in until I can't bear it anymore


I will remember standing here

The world laid out before me

The sun shining on me

The wind blowing all my cares away

And my heart overflowing with perfect, unfathomable peace.


There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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I thought it was fantastic. It reminded me of our Lord's blood, at least for me, as a hardcore Catholic, as well as it made me think of the stillness of prayer that I usually get best, when sitting in the back of an empty church, just meditating. So, well done. I'll the first to admit that I am horrendous at analyzing poetry, and I never seem to arrive at the poet's intended place. But I liked it. Very spiritual, and in a good way!


[Associate of the Illinois Mafia since November 2002.]

Member of the Four Horsemen

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Stunning! I love it. I don't know what you are talking about being a bad poet! It's all a lie! Everyone has a good poet in them. They just need to unleash it the right way.


looking forward to tit
One flash of my perfect chest and he'll be knocked out in a happytime daydream.
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