Segunda-feira, 1 de Março de 2010

The Moody Blues Poems....

Owls Dairy

 

Woke up…at night.

Streetlights are breaking thru the windows,

He sees the moonlight glow bowing honorably at the night.

Beneath his feet a cold thrill,

Gives him the hourglass.

His sleepless nights haunt him.

One beat up look of a poor beggar fills his eyes.

Shivery walks towards the fruit basket,

He slowly takes a bite of an Apple.

It’s nearly day-time as the writer sits by the table,

The clock hits 5 AM.

Tortured morning glimpse into the divine word,

As nothing else matters,

True colors come to life,

His world comes to life…

Devoted to the paper gives it all up,

As if it’s the only fight he got left.

Words shaded by this sorrow.

Riddled even to him….

 


Written by: David Nightingale às 04:16
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