dimanche 14 août 2011

Prisonner

Vast fields of grass,
Still while the wind
Blows it's wrath,
Let winter begin.

It's cold in your heart
The sun no longer
Relieves you from dark
Dreams and yearnings

Like a prisoner
Behind closed bars
Hands gripping
Fists clutching

Begging to be redeemed

Of the memories of nights
Love and Passion
Forever to be lost
In cells without light.

5 commentaires:

  1. The sadness is sometimes all we can see, but we must move on. Look past the past and start again today. Nicely written!

    Here's my offering for Potluck 48: http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/08/14/the-lake/

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  2. this one is powerful, the sadness jumps from the page....

    a truely beautiful piece

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  3. Very exquisitely written, nice work.

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  4. Thanks for the support to poetry potluck.

    keep up the excellent!

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