Janus and his daughter
Janus and his daughter
Dit is een gedicht dat ik heb geschreven als deel van mijn examen voor een vak dat Proficiency III heet. Dus eh... disclaimer mochten de examinatoren nogmaals checken op plagiaat: dit is de geplagieerde versie, niet die van het examen. :')))
Ik had ook maar drie uur om drie gedichten vanuit het niets te schrijven dus eh ja hij is een beetje "rough around the edges" maar well ok yeah here, have at it.
Oh wacht dit gedicht gaat enigszins over zelfmoord en het is best sarcastisch tegen het einde aan dus hmmmm dit is een waarschuwing als je daar gevoelig voor bent.
She had a fascination with candles in the midst of night,
and she felt like God when He created light;
and because the Darkness was always lurking around,
the candles burned brighter than the light of day.
And the candle burned proud behind the glass window,
reflecting two flames in the double glassed frame,
and when the curtains would close in the dead of night
you could see nothing of the situation inside
Until the red and yellow and blue lights arrived
(of which he was positively terrified).
But the vibrant colours could not re-open the curtains
that had caused her to finally dim the light:
for flesh on flesh is so much louder
than the sirens wailing in the dark night.
Later that week some candles were lit
to comfort those who never saw the struggling flame
before it went out, because they lived in the light.
And they cried and they cried and nobody knew
the hypocrisy of the man who cried there, too.
But, in the end, if she knew of her fate,
she would have smiled, one final time,
for in her tiny dark room behind closed doors she'd find
All was flames, and all was bright,
As she lit up the same way a candle might--
And all was light:
All was Light.
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