Not really into writing this past few days, but this is what I wrote for our creative writing class last week. It supposed to be a picture poem, but I am unsure of how to write it in picture here, in this blog. So I just write it as it is.
His glance slices the opaque glass,
A coffin for rosses, now liquid transparent
No longer a heart of beating love.
And as his weak finger caressed,
the cold glass coffin,
No memories of the sweetest love.
Instead just the cold, serene thoughts
Of flying, leaving his mortal form,
Reaching his destination,
Guided by faith and believes.
Oh! how he longed for,
The day his soul
Leaving this world.
The story behind this is that we are asked to bring something that smells nice, and then wrote a poem about that smelly thing in the shape of it from a dying person's perspective.
I brought a bottle of perfume, Morrocan Rose by Body shop. Not really proud of this piece, I dont really see what a dying person thinking of when they saw this bottle of perfume, so when I wrote this, I was in confusion.