Depressed in darkness silence sieved
forgive
as Sisyphos once pushed his weight
from heights
my head is drumbeats; darkly calls
this fall
of rotting leaves; I’m small
beneath the pewter clouds
I’ve weaved myself a shroud.
Forgive; from heights this fall
The cloud by Victor Pasmore
One more Ovillejo for De’s prompt at dVerse. Also linking to Sannaa’s prompt.
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January 14, 2016
Björn Rudbergs writings 
I probably don’t comment as often as I should, but my like I hope reflects how much I enjoy your work.
Beautifully expressed 🙂
How dark and oppressive ~ I specially admire this line: I’ve weaved myself a shroud.
Lovely 2nd share Bjorn ~
I imagined it in a voice of certain dark yet elegant despair. This part stood out to me the most :”I’m small
beneath the pewter clouds
I’ve weaved myself a shroud.”
That last line is a gem.
Intensely evocative!
I especially love this:
“I’m small
beneath the pewter clouds
I’ve weaved myself a shroud.”
Another beautiful Ovillejo, Bjorn. Thank you!
Very deep Bjorn. That has lots of feeling.
I agree with others about this:
“I’m small
beneath the pewter clouds
I’ve weaved myself a shroud.” wow
Bjorn, I noticed you have been exploring the dark side again. Haunting images.
another WOW from me
This is a blast, wow! Love it.
a sad poem
an apology for suffering
but the reader can not offer hugs
Pewter clouds — a beautiful and foreboding image. This is a wonderful work of the form. So admire those who did two!
An intense read, Bjorn!
loved the second last line
Such a tormented soul, comparing themselves to Sisyphus…that’s no picnic! The pewter clouds and self-made shroud are stark, bleak emotions. Very nicely done, Bjorn!
you’ve greatly translated the painting in most appropriately dark words….
beneath the pewter clouds
I’ve weaved myself a shroud.
Not to be unnecessarily disturbed one can ‘shroud’ oneself and retain some privacy!
Hank
Thank you so much for linking with Prompt Nights 🙂
Lovely write 😀
This one is a gem…
pewter clouds and weaving a shroud for oneself…the imagery is so rich…not to mention the difficulty of writing an ovillejo. Wow. Stunning.
The fall
is never forgiven probably.
But yeah, either we find something solid to stand on.
Or we learn to fly.
loved the ovillejo.
Such powerful imagery – paints the unshakeable feeling of depression once it takes hold
I googled what form of poetry an ovillejo is… 🙂
Loved it…a perfect one…
Thanks for introducing me to this new poetic form… 🙂
The last line: mournful and haunting.
Haunting, yes. I suppose, beneath clouds, one does feel minuscule.
So brilliantly written….