The mind weaves...(or is it the heart)
Paints vivid poetry
Adorns it with all the beauty...care ...love
And turns to me.
With eyes so innocent,
Those of a child lost in the mist
Makes me wonder -
What a whore its soul,behind
Those virgin eyes.
I push it away - from a distance
Dreaded even is a brush of it.
Yet, it keeps up the chase
Till I am compelled to forget,
Its existence is but that of glass
And of my own making.
It takes a form - to me - ghostly
Crooked, malicious and out to devour
Every bit of life left in this body.
I run - but where to?
For try as I may, can I run away -
From my own shadow?
3 comments:
these lines...could mean anything...and they could be the exact opposite..:) i supp thats what poetry is supp to do..
u bet....;)
Hey Deez!
Nice poem!
btw I am back with a blog. Checkout my new blog http://amitken.wordpress.com
the old blog http://amitken.blogspot.com exists but is not updated anymore. you may want to update the link on ur blogroll.
The addiction continues.. but at a new address :o) hope to catch you there.
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