Dark Poetry #4 |
forgotten (3) |
JenniferMaxwell
since 2006-09-14
Posts 2423 |
I’d almost forgotten the colour of rain, how cold the snow when winter remains as the departure of a midnight train that rushes past wheat fields in the untouchable gold and shadows of moonlight, through subterranean caverns deep in the solitude of a journey without end, over trestles suspended in unbreathable air high above the reverie of what might have been. [This message has been edited by JenniferMaxwell (10-10-2007 12:46 PM).] |
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taramw Senior Member
since 2000-06-08
Posts 738 |
I loved the words "I’d almost forgotten the colour of rain" and "of a journey without end, over trestles suspended in unbreathable air" Hmmm... how poignant these are! And what an image your words conjure!!!! Well done It's better to be a lion for a day than a sheep all your life. |
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