Journal - Creative Piece

A/N: This small piece was created with the idea to show, not tell. A big emphasis in diction and syntax has been pronounced in class lately and therefore, somewhat influenced my piece. Enjoy :)

PS: It had to be a tragedy, so I apologize in advance if you don't like the overall view of the piece.

The beautiful weeping willows perched over the river, looking as if there was not a care in the world with their low-hanging branches, while the sunset hues of red, pink, and orange dyed the water with bright, vibrant colors and the slightest breath of wind sent many a ripple alongst its length. Against the scenic landscape lay a young child, broken and useless with its limbs splayed out, red body fluids painting the ground beneath. Its brown hair hung limply off the forehead, knotted with small leaves and branches, and its clothes were tattered and hung off it in shreds, appearing as though mauled by a ferocious animal. The young child was positively dead, though it was warm to the touch and its eyelids flickered, perhaps in reflex. A man in the eerie shadows glanced at the child one last time before walking off into the forest without a second thought. No remorse, no guilt: the guise of a murderer who walked away, knowing no one would ever find out what it’d done. The birds sang their wonderful songs, lilting harmonies that sounded like honey to the ears and squirrels scampered over the sandy shelf, scavenging for their next supper; the world was going on as normal without bothering to think of the broken child in its presence. After all, why should nature care about a child when even humanity betrays their own?

Doors Open, Doors Shut

A/N: I wrote a poem in which doors are seen as a two-fold decision. There are two ways in which a person's path may lie, and only one can be taken. This poem is supposed to convey the indecisiveness of a lover who is unable to tell their untold love of their feelings, afraid of the backlash. 

Doors Open, Doors Shut

Doors Open, Doors Shut
Behind of which, is naught
But a lover’s dilemma
To love, to hate?

Doors White, Doors Bright
The pure heart takes flight
Not looking behind, but forward
To learn, to ardor?

Doors Black, Doors Dark
One’s love may leave marks
Of an unrequited heart
To say, to pain?

Doors Burning, Doors Freezing
The devil beats at the door
Acting as if a meddlesome cancer
While the angel patiently waits
Leaving questions alone, unanswered
To love, to hate?

Doors Open, Doors Shut
Everything may seem nuts
But only a good heart hath
Find the destined path.

Doors Open, Doors Shut