Dark Poetry #2 |
Journey towards the end |
Xeonox
since 2000-04-01
Posts 1764CA, USA |
Melting hot, Tangled itself to the summer’s eve, Uncrushed by the approaching of morning dew, Spinning in circles, Singing so ever stridently, ghostly voices haunt this sight, Shedding in passion, Grabbing the bottomless peak, Looking annoyed, Turning downward, Seeing and not believing, Making sense of it all, As God awaits patiently, Taking you to his home. Ronil (What I say I live by and what I live by is what I create). |
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© Copyright 2000 Ronil B Tataria - All Rights Reserved | |||
Walter Poe Senior Member
since 1999-10-13
Posts 787 |
placeing hope or beauty in death is futile Death is the removal of beauty and hope not to mention futility Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling From glen to glen, and down the mountain side The summer's gone, and all the roses falling 'Tis |
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