The night grows old, drear darkness cold,
The night air rich with fears untold.
The woods have slept, this dead of night,
Yet I move on with fading might.
Though I've no home, no place to go,
Except the lovely soils below.
The river, restless, murky flows,
And swirling round bleak blackness blows.
Clouds gilded frame the ancient moon,
And winds weird sing their lonesome tunes.
Stars wink, stare, spy thru streaks of sky,
'tween shifting shadows drifting by.
While secret eyes in magic haunts,
Watch over their great forests gaunt...
Forlorn I roam these ancient trails,
An outcast born of life's travails.
A contest entry
- Ten words for you by Neha Sharma.
700 points, ended December 22, 2008, 18 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Win $50, and be published in the next Allpoetry Book! by Kevin.
400 points, ended January 15, 77 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Like it? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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hmmm. I like the feeling of this unexplained chill while reading the beginning of this. but at the end it just turns into a nomad traveling.. and unexpected change of pace.
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i loved it. it was very beautiful, i got chills while reading it. well done.
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Wow!!! Your imagery in your words is so beautiful. You paint words in to pictures in my mind. You are really good. I loved it
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wow....!!!!!
Thanks for the entry. I loved this one.
Good wishes
-Neha
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It has a haunting olden time quality to it. The flow is great. The rhyme works well. The content is interesting throughout. It left me wanting more. Great style. Thanks!
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thank you
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