Exhale troubled soul,
unlock bated breath;
thoughts imprisoned
like a heart in bony cell;
Free thyself, lest you die;
wait not for perfumed air
to mix with, create a shade,
to match lilac or rose;
You have not the power
but you are able
to turn winter silver
today.
A contest entry
- crimson remorse by PersephoneInWinter.
300 points, ended August 19, 2008, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
thoughts imprisoned
like a heart in bony cell,
I love that.
Joe

-
Excellent take on the prompt, I love the imagery you show here, it makes it such a smooth read.




