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Open Poetry #9
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Moon Dust
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since 1999-06-11
Posts 2177
Skelmersdale, UK

0 posted 2000-09-06 03:51 PM


Mist prowls though,
Thick and deep,
The moon glows faintly,
Though a horde of twisted trees,
As they peer from evil slits,
And as the path of leaves and twigs,
Twists and turns,
And winds to an Unknown destination,
Across the distance hear a cry,
A lonely shrill,
Against the wind,
Which whispers loudly,
To call me to my fate,
Upon the hill,
A hooded figure,
Stands tall,
Clutching to a distintive sycthe,
Lighting tears though my soul,
And as the identity is reaveled,
Is also my fate.


What I write and others read is your own experiance and perceptions.

© Copyright 2000 Moon Dust - All Rights Reserved
Moon Dust
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Elite
since 1999-06-11
Posts 2177
Skelmersdale, UK
1 posted 2000-09-06 04:02 PM


oooops sorry its steves challenge

What I write and others read is your own experiance and perceptions.

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