Painted tones
sky and the clouds
Faint memory
Of lucid dreams
The wisps
Reality planted there
Teasing me
In quiet delusions
Awake at night
With a feather
Upon my brow
An event foreshadowed
in my heart
That suffers the scorn
of those who are sane
And drags me down
with claws of impossibility
Yet my lady
taunts me still
Her silver light beckoning
The quest still everlasting
, must ask for help
What piece is missing
from my soul
That sets me apart
from all others
Is my spirit telling the truth?
Or an overactive imagination
weaving lies.
I'll probably end up rewriting this one, it isn't great....
YOU ARE READING
Running From Time
PoetryThis is the second volume of my poetry books. It ranges from dark poetry to stuff about night to things like swimming. Whatever I get inspired, I'll post it here for you guys to enjoy. And if you'd like, check out my first poetry book, Song Among Th...
