He went wild like the weather,
in the deserts,
sand storms,
and cold long nights.
He took a stroll,
down the hill of sorrow,
half contemplated suicides,
eyes half closed,
with his mind held on loose thread,
the connection to the past,
only he knew.
His eyes saw no one,
though few men shared with him,
their long forgettable tales.
His ears heard no sound,
but the deepest miserable sighs,
that came out from his heart.
It broke his spirit,
when the scenes in sight,
were not great mountains, but
were disjointed memories of the lost nights,
he had when her fingers would play with his hair
their laughters echoed in the rose scented air.
He took a stroll,
alone in the dark black of the desert night,
through sand paths that disappeared once made,
With a knife so sharp he cut a spot,
and,
Bled out were the stories they used to tell,
of dreams, their love, the knight, with his
sweet princess long gone..
Pffft!
Comments
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this is fantastic poetry. if i had a contest going on anything, anything at all, even if i said no centered formats, i'd give you an instant gold
the way you converge his mind to his heart to his soul to his perceptions taken up short by his heartbreak ... this is breathtaking
i am not easy to impress, by the way
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aw, you're very generous with your compliments =D
Thank you so much for taking your time to read this. I am very honored to have impressed a very hard to impress person!
Thanks again
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this is awesome i really like it
the whole thing is my favorite part
deff. one of my favorites so far on AP!!
great write
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Thanks so much for spending your time on this one, I'm glad you liked it! =)
Thanks again.
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