Dark Poetry #2 |
A poet's Rite (Habit) |
Xeonox
since 2000-04-01
Posts 1764CA, USA |
Lips of sun burn me down, < !signature-->Water falls of mars in I drown, Spark of hope ignites the moon, Craters of the past coming in full bloom, Density waits as desires recedes, Sensing no pain, my life proceeds, Climbing on up with a curiousness of a boy, Seeing time as nothing but a new toy, Holding on tight to the mighty reins , As with strike, bloods rushes my veins, Conceiving my thoughts with a last strike, The whip that cracks with no end in sight, Watching all this but no sense comes of it, Acknowledging all of this as a poet’s rite. Ronil (The sweet sound of summer sends serenity through my soul searching for that evermore solitude.) [This message has been edited by Xeonox (edited 12-11-2000).] |
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© Copyright 2000 Ronil B Tataria - All Rights Reserved | |||
catalinamoon
since 2000-06-03
Posts 9543The Shores of Alone |
Good stuff, X.. Sandra |
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LM Senior Member
since 2000-08-03
Posts 585 |
Cool... Liked it a lot! Peace! |
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