Disillusioned enchantress
speaks to me,
Tells me of all the things
I'll never be,
Intellectual discourse
reminds me,
Of days gone by
tomorrow not today,
Whispering willows
talk of windy days,
But speak not
throughout the haze,
Sorrowful funerals
now bring back the tears,
Showing me my eyes
have lines of the years,
Caressing twilight
by pale moon light ends,
Not fortunate to be
dark nights pretends,
The rage the builds
before us calls to me,
Burning inside like
acid you can't see...
Author notes
Option #1 Be creative with your words and write a poem
that rhymes and doesn't make much sense.
A contest entry
- The Art Of Words by Poetess12.
2400 points, ended October 14, 2008, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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This poem is an art. You did a great job writing it.
Thanks for your entry.
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My head must be miswired, because it sort of made sense to me. I enjoyed this nice little rhyming piece. Good luck in the contest!
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Thanks. I am not sure how it could make sense I was rambling, but thanks nonetheless.
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