DarkVortex
Novice
Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." -Robert Frost
Posts: 36
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Post by DarkVortex on May 22, 2005 18:56:57 GMT -5
As the stars fly by the eclipsing moon. I become drowsy and jaded very soon. I lay awake as the night falls short and out of breath. Grasping the presence of apalling death.
I walk outside as the street mist embraces me. My mind clouds and dreams since theres nothing to see. Frightened, I run as the first rain drop falls. Listening to the nights chills and its calls.
I find myself lost and desperately searching. Not knowing if theres anything behind me, lurching. I continue to run and then trip over the slippery tears. Leaving behind everything, even the fears.
I hoist myself up to my path through the foggy haze. Plunging through opsticals, and an immortal maze. I reach the first step and climb towards the light. Then I wake up to the dark hour of midnight.
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Post by alostandbrokensoul on May 28, 2005 7:00:45 GMT -5
that was awesome, i love your style
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