| Open Poetry #36 |
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A Musing... |
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Tim Senior Member
since 1999-06-08
Posts 1794 |
Ill-gotten seed of man’s past folly Sprouting forth in melancholy, As tendrils of a creeping vine, Reaching out to grasp; entwine Sucking life from all it reaches, From mountain’s top to ocean’s beaches, Swells howling chorus of man’s perdition Punctured lives seeking absolution Shrouded by black masks of sin, I fight the vine: ensheathed within. |
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| © Copyright 2005 Tim - All Rights Reserved | |||
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Good write. |
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Tndeer1 Member
since 2005-06-24
Posts 87TN. USA |
Mr. Tim, I do like this one. Very easy to read with so much sensitivity. God Bless! Tndeer1 |
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