Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

dead, cold, night

Poetry By: firephoenix
Poetry



a poem composed of a persons three favourite words


Submitted:Sep 13, 2011    Reads: 12    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   


alone, our world waits, with great demise

soft and silent incantation provides

parched angelic lips long since dead, debrief,

converted by their madness' disbelief-

yet it breast beats clock work with true disguise.

this ghost agaist the ebb of time with jelous eyes

mortal flesh may bend, become cold, relief:

of such a forign object mortal grief,

its madness call to arms all those who dare

a light within cannot pierce frozen still

its unimagination is compared

surrounded: burning world without a will

yet in the presence of bring great despair

absence forever biting itching chill

yet its reward is warmth beyond compare.





0

| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.