DarkVortex
Novice
Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." -Robert Frost
Posts: 36
|
Post by DarkVortex on May 22, 2005 18:56:16 GMT -5
Here lie's a boy whose mind melts like snow. Directing the path of the river and it's flow. But today was the day where the snow turned black. His abilities to control action was what he lacked.
The world would face yet another horrendous mishap. To witness the death's of live's yet to adapt. Is this what religion calls "God's grace?" Or just another reprimand to abandon and not face.
The world falls dorment like a virus in a subsisting cell. Waiting for the sound as each body fell. What could have been prevented had just occured. But of course nothing was done and thats the preferred.
Does it hurt to the heart of perverse rainmaker. To become another soul to the venerable undertaker. So the river will continue to cascade with imbrued tears. For one day we could learn from this infectious sear.
|
|
|
Post by alostandbrokensoul on May 28, 2005 7:02:06 GMT -5
........wow.....cant think of anything else to say....
|
|