breathing in the clouds
of memories so sweet
longing to feel
the essence of touch
heated on the brink
grasping the calm
losing hold and
tumbling down into
a sweet and gentle
oblivion that is
what is left of you
so lonely in darkness
scraping by as
claws rake against
the night embers
of ocean waves
crashing down upon us
like needle and thread
washing against cloth
so tenderly
it is consumed by
all thoughts of tomorrow
eclipsed into today
so that the moonshine
illuminates the sun
and we are left
in the angelic turmoil
of our mentality
Author notes
There isn't supposed to be punctuation or capitalization. That's how the story goes dears...
- Dead Poets Society group list • next in list
A contest entry
- 15 minutes - 3 by Melissa Gayle.
300 points, ended January 31, 2007, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please let me know what you think.
Comments
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you don't even have to rhyme and you do well.
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Did someone's fantasy turn into a nightmare half way through?
-
Indeed it does go.
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