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A Hundred Howling Moons: Ch. 1 The Dream

Poetry By: Kuatsimoto
Poetry


Now his ghosts haunt him and embrace him. He will be one with his inner self.


Submitted:May 26, 2008    Reads: 80    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


Light
A tunnel.
The eyes were following him.
Red with anger
Rage,
Following.
His mind blocked by the red
The light fades
The eyes look upon him now,
Dripping their hate,
Anger
Rage.
He is floating
Weightless
Anger
Rage.
The taste of blood
Seeps into his consciousness
Taking hold of his senses.
His life.
His being
Anger,
Rage,
Hate.
Memories drift by
His past haunts him
His dreams taunt him
His present destroys him
Anger
Rage
Hate.
Bubbles float by.
Now he is the beast
The red eyes his,
The snarl his
The anger
The hate
The rage,
All his.
He embraces it
And howls.
This time the wind
Stays quiet.
Anger
Rage
Hate.
He is now the wind
Slipping past reality
With the flexibility of a cat.
Searching his past
Hoping his future,
Praying his present.
Anger
Rage
Hate.
All his
And his alone.
Death embraces him
Cold
Dark
And a journey begins
To find his peace
To replace anger
Rage
Hate.
A journey across the endless path
On the endless land
A chapter of every day
For one hundred days
And howl for every night
To one hundred howling moons.





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