Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Shadow



Silence...
No sound in the alleyway,
Her direction gone astray.
Concrete canvases display
Ghouls of black night among the grey.

Glance...
Inhuman, bloodless spies
Through the corner of her eyes
Her courage with each step dies
The world is deaf to her cries.

Stealth...
Noislessly they follow
Creatures of the moon, hollow
Using only black to gallow
Her words, her screams, she swallows.

Hide...
They reach out in despair!
Stifled by their glares
She evades each piercing stare
And offers a silent prayer.

Run...
Towards horizon bright
The sun, her secret weapon in the dark fight
She escapes from the beasts of the night
As they are doused by the burning light.

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Poetry

when language like bubbling streams flow




when words are laid down to fit like lovers' hands




when you feel the essence of the poet from within




when swirling thoughts are caught in the net of rhythm



when images reel as you read




when pen and paper create a symphony




then, it is poetry