Sleeping in the darkness of loss, tears flowing onto my
pillow where I can no longer lay my head because it's
soaked through with my sorrow.
...
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For what it is worth, first, great poem! Very magical. It is quite an art to know the edge of the ledge, to draw from someone I hold in regard. On a bit of a serendipitous note, I began an essay on Mithra today. What's the point? Well, you allude to Mithra, who is the light that proceeds the Sun [rise]. That threshold, or chasm, like the zodiacal Cancer truly is where you are writing about: the edge. Unless you have explored such mythos, one might say you have drawn from the well that Carl Jung called collective consciousness & James Joyce called the monomyth. Wait till you discover what the edge is, in your own terms. I have formed the notion the edge represents the plane between [the thoughts]: what should I do; what needs to be done. Thanks for writing truth.
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For what it is worth, first, great poem! Very magical. It is quite an art to know the edge of the ledge, to draw from someone I hold in regard. On a bit of a serendipitous note, I began an essay on Mithra today. What's the point? Well, you allude to Mithra, who is the light that proceeds the Sun [rise]. That threshold, or chasm, like the zodiacal Cancer truly is where you are writing about: the edge. Unless you have explored such mythos, one might say you have drawn from the well that Carl Jung called collective consciousness & James Joyce called the monomyth. Wait till you discover what the edge is, in your own terms. I have formed the notion the edge represents the plane between [the thoughts]: what should I do; what needs to be done. Thanks for writing truth.