12-03-2004, 05:58 AM | #11 |
Stranger in a strange land.
|
Another untitled poem.
Clipped his wings, Pulled heartstrings, Fickle feelings, gently kneeling. Bated breath, No time left, Love longlasting, No more; crashing. Final hour, Wilting flower, Love's well is dry, He'll fill it; he cries. Broken hearts, Empty parts, Wounds cut deep, Losing sleep, Feeling regret, Feeling upset, Left wondering what could've been, Left wondering if he had sinned.
__________________
You know, I'd put up something witty and clever right now, but eh. I'm lazy.
Last edited by Cloud Strife; 12-03-2004 at 07:22 AM. |
Thread Tools | |
Display Modes | |
|
|