The end. A poem
The end. A poem
Been reading some rather morose stuff here this afternoon and it brought to mind this thing i wrote a few years ago. Enjoy, L.
The end.
Crushed black ice, fills my glass
Right before the fall.
And jagged walls that line the climb
Tear flesh as I slowly crawl.
When the net they throw is full of holes,
Send me freedom from this doom-
On a starless night bring a broken mirror
To reflect my last full moon.
The end.
Crushed black ice, fills my glass
Right before the fall.
And jagged walls that line the climb
Tear flesh as I slowly crawl.
When the net they throw is full of holes,
Send me freedom from this doom-
On a starless night bring a broken mirror
To reflect my last full moon.
I am embarassed as hell to see the word "talent" used here. At best i feel i get lucky! Thanks so much for your feedback. Ever since reading Vesuvius' remark about a "Beginning" poem, i have been pondering its possibilities. There is no 'counterpart' to this (End) poem, but i did eek out a "Beginning" poem. Lizzytsh, i will have to dig up a more lighthearted (awakening) thing. Thanks again for your comments, Laurie