Dark Poetry #1 |
Burrowing Worm |
dhuron Member
since 2000-03-19
Posts 476 |
Naive to the intentions you set Trusting your words as I found comfort from them Blind to the signs forewarning me Deaf to the cry of my all knowing soul Trusting as I have always been Giving, never asking for much in return Proving myself to you Taken for granite and utterly hurt Planted in my soul, a burrowing worm Slowly eating away at my essence But still I remain Loyal or a Fool A night, in my waking dreams, I see myself I see the worm eating at my quivering soul Burrowing deeper and deeper Yet I did nothing to stop it I pretend to be naive I am onto your game, no longer the pawn The Burrowing Worm of your self hatred, Halted Purged from myself, Stronger than before No longer will the virulent words stab at me I know your weakness, it will serve as my strength The tables will turn in time, full circle But I will not Plant a Burrowing Worm I will leave you to your own self destruction The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, not the kindly smile, not the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when he discovers that someone believes in him and is willing to trust him with his friendship." --Ralph Waldo Emerson |
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© Copyright 2000 Daniel Huron - All Rights Reserved | |||
Duchess New Member
since 2000-05-18
Posts 6 |
I've been there. It is hard to think of anything else but vengeance when you've been wronged or hurt. I commend you for not planting your own "worm". duch<~~didn't plant any "worms" either... but wrote with enough bile to slaughter a herd of elephants. |
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a-alibaster Member
since 2000-01-08
Posts 392 |
The worms, the worms, they live 'till no end... they to self destuction will some day send... THis is wonderfully written and so very true...thank you for a good read... There is an alter ego which dwells in every soul... a-alibaster |
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Joel the wolf Senior Member
since 2000-04-06
Posts 1333Angels Camp |
Yes it's best to let them self-destruct. Then sleep comes. a great and heart felt poem. I howl a mournful song, that echos within my chambered heart, for all to read? nay for all to feel. |
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