A first-time décima poet. Nailed it an amazing way. Go take a look, seriously.
At times of loss, then it does seem As though all flat is my being Eyes open, yet nothing seeing; Alone, I wander through a dream. Crazed horizons: a mottled theme Beckons me to sanity's edge. A splintered mind; a driven wedge Into reality's true heart And at the last a distant part Found clinging to a windswept ledge.
I’ve never tried a ‘decima‘ poem before. I’m not tremendously pleased with my effort: what do you think of it?