Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.
Oh, the silver sine of
moonlight's whisper.
A gentle song in the darkened night.
Each star joining in chorus silent and sweet.
Wait fot the people to listen in the
Mourning morning.
Thier last symphony unheard,
but by the nocturnal beings.
Oh the silver shine of moonlight's whisper and
Tomorrow's dust flares into breath.
Even this late the bones of the body shine.
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This is an old poem I wrote for my Creative Process class my Senior year. I've posted it in the forums about a month ago, and got a few of those "oh that's a typical aingsty teen poem, why'd you bother writing it?" replies...I hope you like it.
 Scarletmaelstrom · Sun Jun 22, 2008 @ 09:37pm · 0 Comments |
