Can someone pls mark my English aqa gcse language paper 1 q5

Hi guys, I would rlly appreciate if someone could mark and give me some feedback for my response Crooked and curved, a motley array of boundless mountains dominate the landscape, watching the tranquil turquoise lake underneath and the swarms of people darting around on the dock, like bees in a hive united with 1 purpose: to relish an afternoon of relaxation and bliss.
Sublime, scorching, sempiternal —the sun asserts it's hegemony over the sky, its fierce light radiating in all directions. Like a blazing furnace, it pours heat and energy across the world, its golden rays stretching endlessly to touch everything beneath. Each beam is a vital spark: animating the people on the dock with strength and driving the rhythm of their daily lives with its perptual, routine.
On the lake, a boat patiently sits on the dancing waves, highlighted with vibrant colours - crimson red, ivory white and fluorescent yellow. A fisherment launches his hook into the lake, penetrating the crashing waves and reaching the oasis of still water below, inundated with shoals of fish. One with his name one it... A catch! He reels, staggers, clutches the fishing rod and with injected intense eyes stares at the water to observe the prize he has won. With his last ounce of might, he spins the fishing rod as fast as a helicopter propeller, finally raising his prize above the water and proving his dominance over the sea, a skill developed over decades.
Behind him, an army of trees stand firm and strong watching him like spectators in the Roman Colosseum watching prey getting hunted by a superior species. The trees dance in the wind, there branches moving forwards and backwards, orchestrating a symphony of rustling leaves and nature's power while simultaneously taciturnly judging the humans from afar for their lust of relaxation and greed.
On the dock, crowds of locals sit down, dangly their feet into the crystal clear water which assaults and crashes into the docks. Despite being dilapidated and decrepit - to the locals - the dock is perfect. Whilst the weather might frequently change or people get fired from jobs, the dock sits there, patiently waiting to complete it's mission and provide a source of solace in their fickle lives.
As the clock hand gradually ambles towards it's zenith, the sun retreats, allowing the darkness to creep, slowly overpowering the sky with its suffocating grip and sending the locals scurrying to their homes. Like a ravenous beast, it devours the last rays of light, its inky tendrils spreading steadily across the horizon. The shadow is a thief, a consuming force, stealing the warmth from the earth and halting the pulse of human activity with its relentless reign. Sinister, silent, somber...

Hi guys, I would rlly appreciate if someone could mark and give me some feedback for my response Crooked and curved, a motley array of boundless mountains dominate the landscape, watching the tranquil turquoise lake underneath and the swarms of people darting around on the dock, like bees in a hive united with 1 purpose: to relish an afternoon of relaxation and bliss.
Sublime, scorching, sempiternal —the sun asserts it's hegemony over the sky, its fierce light radiating in all directions. Like a blazing furnace, it pours heat and energy across the world, its golden rays stretching endlessly to touch everything beneath. Each beam is a vital spark: animating the people on the dock with strength and driving the rhythm of their daily lives with its perptual, routine.
On the lake, a boat patiently sits on the dancing waves, highlighted with vibrant colours - crimson red, ivory white and fluorescent yellow. A fisherment launches his hook into the lake, penetrating the crashing waves and reaching the oasis of still water below, inundated with shoals of fish. One with his name one it... A catch! He reels, staggers, clutches the fishing rod and with injected intense eyes stares at the water to observe the prize he has won. With his last ounce of might, he spins the fishing rod as fast as a helicopter propeller, finally raising his prize above the water and proving his dominance over the sea, a skill developed over decades.
Behind him, an army of trees stand firm and strong watching him like spectators in the Roman Colosseum watching prey getting hunted by a superior species. The trees dance in the wind, there branches moving forwards and backwards, orchestrating a symphony of rustling leaves and nature's power while simultaneously taciturnly judging the humans from afar for their lust of relaxation and greed.
On the dock, crowds of locals sit down, dangly their feet into the crystal clear water which assaults and crashes into the docks. Despite being dilapidated and decrepit - to the locals - the dock is perfect. Whilst the weather might frequently change or people get fired from jobs, the dock sits there, patiently waiting to complete it's mission and provide a source of solace in their fickle lives.
As the clock hand gradually ambles towards it's zenith, the sun retreats, allowing the darkness to creep, slowly overpowering the sky with its suffocating grip and sending the locals scurrying to their homes. Like a ravenous beast, it devours the last rays of light, its inky tendrils spreading steadily across the horizon. The shadow is a thief, a consuming force, stealing the warmth from the earth and halting the pulse of human activity with its relentless reign. Sinister, silent, somber...

Personally I'd give it 18 + 15 but I'm a student so this may not be accurate. It's really good, but I don't know how you would have done if handwritten. I'd suggest using shifts in time or place maybe even some speech.
Well done.

Personally I'd give it 18 + 15 but I'm a student so this may not be accurate. It's really good, but I don't know how you would have done if handwritten. I'd suggest using shifts in time or place maybe even some speech.
Well done.

Hi guys, I would rlly appreciate if someone could mark and give me some feedback for my response Crooked and curved, a motley array of boundless mountains dominate the landscape, watching the tranquil turquoise lake underneath and the swarms of people darting around on the dock, like bees in a hive united with 1 purpose: to relish an afternoon of relaxation and bliss.
Sublime, scorching, sempiternal —the sun asserts it's hegemony over the sky, its fierce light radiating in all directions. Like a blazing furnace, it pours heat and energy across the world, its golden rays stretching endlessly to touch everything beneath. Each beam is a vital spark: animating the people on the dock with strength and driving the rhythm of their daily lives with its perptual, routine.
On the lake, a boat patiently sits on the dancing waves, highlighted with vibrant colours - crimson red, ivory white and fluorescent yellow. A fisherment launches his hook into the lake, penetrating the crashing waves and reaching the oasis of still water below, inundated with shoals of fish. One with his name one it... A catch! He reels, staggers, clutches the fishing rod and with injected intense eyes stares at the water to observe the prize he has won. With his last ounce of might, he spins the fishing rod as fast as a helicopter propeller, finally raising his prize above the water and proving his dominance over the sea, a skill developed over decades.
Behind him, an army of trees stand firm and strong watching him like spectators in the Roman Colosseum watching prey getting hunted by a superior species. The trees dance in the wind, there branches moving forwards and backwards, orchestrating a symphony of rustling leaves and nature's power while simultaneously taciturnly judging the humans from afar for their lust of relaxation and greed.
On the dock, crowds of locals sit down, dangly their feet into the crystal clear water which assaults and crashes into the docks. Despite being dilapidated and decrepit - to the locals - the dock is perfect. Whilst the weather might frequently change or people get fired from jobs, the dock sits there, patiently waiting to complete it's mission and provide a source of solace in their fickle lives.
As the clock hand gradually ambles towards it's zenith, the sun retreats, allowing the darkness to creep, slowly overpowering the sky with its suffocating grip and sending the locals scurrying to their homes. Like a ravenous beast, it devours the last rays of light, its inky tendrils spreading steadily across the horizon. The shadow is a thief, a consuming force, stealing the warmth from the earth and halting the pulse of human activity with its relentless reign. Sinister, silent, somber...