TITLE_LESS

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
WHAT? CAN'T A POEM BE TITLE-LESS?

Submitted: November 13, 2011

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Submitted: November 13, 2011

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The bells play around,

And then surround,

A horrifying silence,

The breeze conquer hence,

The lonely traveler.

 

I hope the mist pass,

It never does alas,

Covered with snow,

The fright made aglow,

The fiery strangler.

 

Justice of the feather,

Blown by cursed weather,

Hindered by agony,

The pain travels his chest,

The lonesome Judge.

 

Snow hides his smile,

Death playing cards awhile,

Laughter of haunted,

Jingling conquers all those,

The lonely jests.

 

Scared of everything around,

I hide beneath astound,

Pain in brain,

Tears make everything dull,

The wailing heart.


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