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 Sept 11, 2005 16:25:40 GMT -5
This ancient taste of putrid heartache plagues thy senses. Collapsing but all my barriers and striking at my defenses. Thou had a chance to own the rights to thy heart. For it hath left behind and ceased before it could start.
We are but only mortals within a time line to forfill. Capture every chance like fireflies and climb every hill. To thine soul I shall be true for all my words do as well. A rush of tears to ones satisfaction for my eyes start to swell.
Thy river of tears are a sign of devotion to thy meaning. Both knees fallen and placed for love while softly pleaing. To this day bring us a guiding voice for all that lies ahead. Reflect upon its spell of love and all it has said.
Gaze upon me now, but a fortune locked inside a rusty chest. The key not far from ones grasp to be put forth to the test. For thy secrets lie waiting within a hollow shell to be told. Thou are the same, so take this heart to love and to hold.
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