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Dark Poetry #4
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mysticpoe
Senior Member
since 2003-02-28
Posts 883


0 posted 2004-03-19 10:32 AM



Falling one million miles
per story.
My mind facing in
the passing pages promised.
As the endless outreach of
Those,
stained and lasting
hands of the forever
multitude.
Always seemed one day
behind me.
With answers to why,
the cold is lonely in winter.
The sun feels closer,
when we smile
And the blood,
the color of life
is tortured by horror.
Our cries,
the domain of life
is still waiting,
waiting,
for the white bus
to arrive.

If nothing is something
then everything is
our thoughts and feelings
and all that exists.

© Copyright 2004 mysticpoe - All Rights Reserved
Lexy
Senior Member
since 2003-01-28
Posts 1038
California
1 posted 2004-03-19 07:56 PM


and we all continue to wait
nice...honest..and well crafted.  

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