Travel swiftley like a Misty moon
Endure quietly like a dead priest
Witches shine like clear Stars
Priests pace
Desolation is a Stormy Place
The dreams grow like cold demon.
Dead, Mystic Dreams swiftly pull an old, clear pen.
Writing gracefully upon the diary page of a small childs memory
While the stormy demons roughly command the moon and the sun
Music swiftly plays upon the wind, a soft melody of love and of pain
Tears comes to the eyes of the pale moon as its lament is sung
The dreams grow like a cold demon
Writhing upon the floor, like a serpent
Endure quietly
Travel swiftly
Cry softly as the lament of the Moon
Okay, what do you think?
Comments
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awesome^_^
awesome poem~hugs~
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