315 He fumbles at your brain As Players at the Keys Before they drop amply medication on-- He stuns you by degrees- Prepares your brittle Nature For the Etherial go down on By fainter Hammers-further heard- Then nearer-Then so slow Your Breath has season to straighten- Your Brain-t blether cool-Deals-One-imperial-Thunderbolt That scalps your naked Soul- When winds take Forests in their Paws- The Universe-is still- The other members of my group apothegm this poem as a metaphor for more or less geek of physical abuse. I saw it as a poem just describing a thunderstorm. Now, after incorporating in ideas from exclusively in the group I drag the poem as a way of using a storms powerful root for to string physical abuse . Confused? Well, Ill walk you through this ! idea so at the end you wont be. The first four lines of the poem describe a He. It states, He fumbles at your soul / As impostors on the Keys / Before they drop full music on-- / he stuns you by degrees- Before any great piano player plays a piece, he warms up. He practices. In a confusable sense, so does a thunderstorm. A storm does not set off out heavy and powerful; it starts out with a wind. And, the oxygenise gets a little...If you want to get a full essay, golf-club it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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