Torn Apart from the day's daunting penance
For tills, ills and unending wills,
Like a Victim chased by a pack of wolves,
We escape into your waiting arms.
Curdle me to Sleep, O nightfall's gentle embrace,
the air cold as death, meet tuneful lullaby of tranquil,
The Mighty clouds slumber with the dark,
As every whisper holds my spirit back.
The Moon comes out to Play
With the happy stars and nocturnals awake,
As the Cities sing in Silence,
The sun runs to hide its face.
And so with haste we smite our innocent mats,
Doomed by our bodies laid aback,
Like a faithful slave to its master,
Carries us through the dark.
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Marvellou, nice 1 bro... Great poetry.... My pickin, I know say 1 day u go make is proud... :)
ReplyDeletelol.gracias
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