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Post by Nymiane on Aug 30, 2004 16:06:43 GMT -4
A storm has begun, the strings have been strung. A storm rages on within the poets heart, A storm rages on and truly tears her apart. Thunder booms and lightning hits, Rain pours and tears emit. She wrote a letter, a letter to friends. She wrote to them “This is where it ends.”<br> The wind howls through the cape just so, She bid them good bye, and told them to go. A stream of tears trickle down her pale cheek, The stream of tears, Oh how they make her weak!
To the cliff this dove will walk, To the cliff, she will not stop. A dove without wings, Is a dove that doesn’t sing. A dove that doesn’t sing, nor does it fly, Is only left to wither and die.
The wind picks up and so she soars, She soars to the ground, with out a sound. No song of despair, No song of joy. She was just used, A simple toy..
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Post by Sketchy's Sweetest Sorrows on Sept 2, 2004 20:24:19 GMT -4
Like the use of the dove... ^^-
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Post by Nymiane on Sept 3, 2004 0:43:17 GMT -4
I love using Birds and Angels in poems. I have a fascination with them. However, I was told that to use nature in a negative way is against the uh.. "Poet's Law" or whatever.. Lol.
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Post by Sketchy's Sweetest Sorrows on Sept 3, 2004 1:21:54 GMT -4
Poet's Law can then royally screw off >D;; Nature has two sides to it, just like everything else.
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Post by Icor on Sept 3, 2004 2:39:34 GMT -4
Bloody brilliant, Nym. Bloody brillant.
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