Open Poetry #28 |
Thy Withered Hands Must Paint |
symphony_of_thoughts Member
since 2003-08-03
Posts 95Somewhere |
Oh God, let me release this gift Let me use it to it's final and full extent Let it fuse to my soul, make me lift My many past years now all spent Kaleidoscope of voices In my mind Giving me so many choices I think I must be blind I want to fly high above Leaving the people below Void of confusion, give me a shove So I can believe, so I can grow My hands withered with old age I can't make any sense The play continues on my stage I must break free from this barriar fence My last hours are finally here Give these hands thy blessing My final hour drawing ever so near My soul stands unconfessing I scream out to all Show me thy souls Show me life in its beautiful call So I may paint this glorious image of serenity to all.... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Wonderful! This is a poem... and it's now in my library! |
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