Bold of I on storming
weathered wings to walk
the pouting forest threatening
to temper like a thwarted lover
whilst blackened clouds
a haven-dark etch prophecies
in rotting bark
with green mossed fingers.
Thunder rumbles
through the bones
of fallen trees, speckled stones.
It is I, alone
guided by the gleam
of crackling light, a winding path
who understands the tempest's wrath.
its chilled breath, gnashing teeth
ripping holes in heaven's chest
awhile its blood stains
billowing sheets of sky.
The quickened river-bed grows nigh
pulling saplings from shore's grasp
wrenching them away at last
to disappear beneath the surface.
Author notes
dunno just writing
Written October 10th, 2004
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good
wow this is very well written...Very nicely done, NICE EXPRESSION OF THE WORDS! -
wow this is so beautifully written, I really like it!! awesome job
Meg -
hmmm.... maybe...
prolly so i just need to get writey first
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this is wonderfically, lovely!
I enjoy nature poem very much and this rocked!
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interesting write to say the least, i think its high time we collaborated lol. our styles mirror eachother in some ways, would be good to see combined.
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